Running With My Roots Pulled Up
by Spun
Summary: "If you try to make me talk about what happened to me, if you keep asking questions, I'm going to become the first teenager to dump you in a hundred years." How long can you really run from your darkest nightmares before they catch up? Malec, triggering subject matter ahoy, please read the warnings.
1. Prologue

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **Oh boy... the biggest and most important one is a liberal use of the **Rape As Backstory** trope. So yeah, seriously, this fic contains quite a few references to a rape that occurred in the past. It is _never_ graphic - Sebastian trying to force himself on Clary in CoLS was probably more explicit - so I'm comfortable leaving it at a T rating, but if you think you might be triggered or upset by the topic, please hit the back button. I will post extra warnings in each chapter which contains content pertaining to the rape, if you want to skim those parts. Aside from that, there's some violence and murder and whatnot, nothing worse than what you'd find in the actual series.

All that said, there's a vague implication of sexual assault in this chapter, but it's not actually the one this fic is about.

******Notes:** I can't believe I'm actually posting this.

One of the things a lot of people who read **Snippets** asked for was further exploration of the sentencefic called **Nightmare** - basically, the rape one. Well, here you are, my darlings. There's way more plot than is probably strictly necessary, but this is it. I'll be quite honest and admit I have _no_ idea how this will be received - if you'll love it, hate it, think it's poorly written, think I severely mishandled the topic - and I'm nervous as hell. Try to keep the flames down to a manageable level.

Without further ado (and with many, _many_ thanks to Anita, who puts up with SO MUCH of my shit), the prologue: featuring absolutely none of the characters you're actually here for! :D

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

"You got paint in my _hair_," Maia said mournfully, pulling the affected braids over her shoulder and picking at them with her fingernails. Tiny, dry chips of paint flaked off and fluttered away, caught in the breeze like bits of puke-colored confetti.

Bat gave her an incredulous look. "It wasn't _my_ fault."

"Oh, yes, it was. You _threw_ the brush when any sane person would've just walked across the room and handed it over. Do you know what a _bitch_ it's going to be to wash this out?" She was giving him a hard time, really, since it was nothing a good shampoo wouldn't fix, but her plans of having a long, hot, maybe even _private_ shower early tomorrow morning while most of the pack was still asleep had been dashed the moment paint crusted her hair. The old police station boasted nothing more sophisticated than a square communal shower with exposed, rusted piping and a water heater that hadn't worked since Reagan was president. She'd never complained – before hooking up with what had been Kito's pack at the time, she hadn't had the luxury of a shower in over a week – and by now she was well used to just stripping down and hopping in alongside whoever else was already soaping up. There was no room for modesty in a werewolf pack. Still, it was a little aggravating to glance around and see a couple of the younger boys 'subtly' peeking at her breasts, and then later overhear them comparing her rack to Elisabeth's and Kamaria's. Luke didn't stand for that sort of thing, but Luke had gone upstate on vacation yesterday and the seeds of rebellion were already sprouting.

Well, she could always beat them up if necessary. That was the only way they'd learn. Sighing, Maia patted her braids back into order – redoing them later would take forever, but it was sort of a meditative activity, so she didn't mind too much – and held her hand out to Bat. "Pay up," she said.

He obligingly dug into the pocket of his jeans, fished through his wallet, pulled out a ten-dollar-bill that looked like it had gone through a few rinse cycles in its time. Maia hiked an eyebrow. "Twenty."

"I said ten," Bat argued.

She shook her head and planted her hands on her hips. "You said ten _per room_. I painted two rooms. Rip me off and I will rip your _balls_ off, Bat, I'm really not in the mood."

"No shit," Bat muttered irritably, but he did exchange the ten for an even more battered twenty.

"Thank you." She plucked the bill from his fingers gleefully, ignoring his pained expression. Bat was such a cheapskate sometimes. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it, either – of the two of them, _he_ was gainfully employed, while Maia was a sixteen-year-old runaway without even a proper address to put on job applications. She did have some money coming in soon, since she was looking after the bookstore while Luke was gone, but she wouldn't get paid until after he came home… whenever that was supposed to be. Luke hadn't given her a concrete return date. Maia half-expected that he and Jocelyn Fray were going to elope and run away for an indefinite honeymoon in Vegas or something, although they probably wouldn't have brought Clary with them if that was the case, and they _definitely_ wouldn't have brought Jace. Jocelyn was so obviously not fond of her daughter's boyfriend that Maia, who wasn't exactly fond of him either, found it hilarious. Simon had said Clary did a lot of pleading before her mother let him tag along. Hopefully she was getting some _action_ for all the effort she'd put in. "I ought to charge you for my shampoo, too."

Bat threw his hands in the air. "Get over it, you volunteered. Painting is messy."

"Not usually _that_ messy," she pointed out, folding the money up into a small, soft square and tucking it deep into her pocket. She wasn't worried about muggings now that she could turn into a snarling wolf at will, but old habits died hard. "Well, I hope she likes it."

"She'd better like it," Bat muttered. Maia hid a grin. His most recent girlfriend, Pam, had moved in with him not long ago, and he'd decided to repaint the apartment for her as a 'surprise'. The color he'd chosen was a shade of green optimistically called 'Easter Egg', but Maia renamed it 'Guacamole Vomit' as soon as he cracked open the can. As if that wasn't bad enough, Bat had bought dollar-store paintbrushes that left more bristles than paint on the wall, and at one point he'd gotten a bit _too_ frustrated and accidentally impaled a door with the handle of his brush. Pam was going to be surprised, all right. Maia had decided to skedaddle before she got home from work. She opened her mouth to tell Bat she'd see him on patrol tomorrow, but an odd expression suddenly crossed his face and he asked, "Do you smell that?"

Maia closed her mouth and inhaled deeply through her nose. Her sense of smell had turned up to eleven since becoming a werewolf – even before she'd transformed for the first time, she had discovered her bedroom stank dreadfully of dirty socks – and now, just a few days prior to the full moon, it was better than a dog's. "Um," she said, "Paint. The garbage cans at the curb. Rain. Car exhaust, asphalt, the dumpster, pollution, the Italian restaurant, your shitty cologne, that guy's Schnauzer, the crazy cat lady across the street… take your pick."

He shook his head impatiently. "Not those. I swear I smelled blood."

"If that's a lead-in to a period joke, let me just stop you right there, because it won't be funny or original and I'll have to hurt you." _Men_. They were all the same. If guys were the ones gushing blood out of their nether regions for a week every month, joking about it would be a jailable offense.

"_Maia_," Bat said. "I'm serious."

Maia frowned at him, but nevertheless turned around so they were facing the same direction and took another sniff of the air. The breeze carried the same scents she'd just listed, with the unpleasant additions of rotten beef and a baby who really needed to be changed. "I don't –"

Just for a moment, the wind died down, and a sharp, coppery tang flooded her nostrils.

"Whoa," she said, instinctively rubbing her nose on the back of her hand to scrub away the scent. "_That_ I could smell." Blood in a place like Brooklyn was nothing unusual, but with a odor that intense, it was close by and there was a lot of it.

"I told you," Bat said. "We should – wait, what are you doing?"

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Maia weaved through the battalion of trash cans crowding up the sidewalk and set off down the street. "It's coming from this direction," she called. She heard Bat curse, and a moment later he was jogging up behind her.

Bat lived in a decent part of Brooklyn, on a clean, moderately quiet street with a big park on the corner. Ordinarily, there was no way he'd be able to afford an apartment there on his salary, but the landlord was an ifrit who dabbled in smuggling on the side – nothing _too_ illegal, mostly curiosities like cursed weaponry and demon poisons that the Clave frowned upon – and in exchange for having an occasional bodyguard for his 'deals', he kept Bat's rent cheap. Maia followed her nose towards the park. By the time she reached the manicured lawn, the smell of copper was so strong that it congealed in her throat like a glob of blood.

"Christ," Bat mumbled behind her. Resisting the urge to gag, she took a few deep breaths through her mouth, letting her stomach settle, then plowed forward. The sun was sinking beneath the skyline and the park was nearly empty except for a group of kids tossing around a Frisbee on the far end. "That way," he added, directing her to the left, where trees and bushes coalesced into a small, shady grove.

She knew what she was going to find before they even stepped into the copse, and from the look on Bat's face, so did he. The aroma of death was unmistakable.

Speckled here and there within the tangled greenery were a few tiny clearings, big enough for perhaps two people to sit in comfortably. Maia had tucked herself away into one a few times when she wanted someplace quiet to read. They always reminded her of the 'forts' in the woods of her New Jersey neighborhood where she'd played with the other kids – the ones whose parents would let them hang out with the girl who had a _black mother_, at least. She and her friend Ginny had spent entire summers running from one fort to another, bothering the boys and pretending to be horses and exploring.

None of their adventures had ever involved a dead little girl.

"Oh my _god_ –" She clapped a hand over her mouth to silence the scream building in her throat, stumbled backwards into Bat. He gave a low groan and grabbed her shoulder.

The girl splayed out on the grass was young, with the long, skinny limbs of preadolescence and white-blonde hair tied into a knot atop her head. She was fair-skinned, round-faced, delicate-featured. She would be startlingly beautiful if she wasn't carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

"Oh my god," Maia repeated, blindly scraping at the zipper on her bag. She couldn't take her eyes off the girl. She'd seen far worse since her violent introduction into the world of the supernatural, and Brocelind Plain had been a clusterfuck of horrors that spun her into nightmares for weeks, but dead children were their own special tier of awful. "We need to call the police –"

"No." Bat grabbed her wrist before she could fumble her phone open. "We can't."

"What?" Forcefully tearing her gaze away, Maia refocused on Bat's pale, scarred face. "Why the _hell_ not?"

"She's a Shadowhunter."

Maia blinked. "She's…"

"I can smell it. She's a Shadowhunter." Bat let go of her arm. Not particularly wanting to look again, Maia quickly glanced over the girl's body. There was so much blood that she could smell nothing else, not even the bright-sunshine-scent of Nephilim, but Bat had been a werewolf for five years and his sense of smell was more overdeveloped than hers. And there was no evidence on the girl – her arms were hidden by the tattered remains of her sweater's sleeves, so Maia couldn't tell if she was inked with those swirling runes Shadowhunters covered themselves with. There was a rock clutched in her tiny fist. Her skirt had been rucked up around her thighs. _That_, somehow, was the worst detail of all, and Maia turned around quickly, swallowing the bile in her throat and willing herself not to vomit.

"Okay," she croaked, once she'd gotten herself under control, "I'll take your word for it."

Bat rubbed his face with his hands, looking away. "We need to get out of here _now_."

"What?" Maia said again. Her brain was stuck on the image of the girl's bare, bloodied legs. "No, we need to tell them, if she's one of theirs –"

"Then we'll get the blame when they need someone to pin it on," Bat said bitterly.

Shaking her head, Maia dropped her phone back into her bag. No need for it anymore. She didn't have numbers for any of the Shadowhunters at the Institute – Jace was an asshole, Isabelle was essentially her romantic rival, and she didn't know Alec well enough. "Don't be stupid. They're not _that_ bad." She could understand Bat's animosity, though, since the only Shadowhunter he'd had extended contact with was Jace, who was the worst Nephilim Welcome Package ever. "I'll go, I'm on pretty good terms with them. _You_ can run off if you want, but god knows what'll get her after the sun goes down."

The look Bat gave her could've liquefied tungsten, but then his gaze flitted back to the little girl and he sighed. "Hurry up. Every bloodsucker in the borough will be here soon, and I'm not getting myself killed tonight."

She nodded, quickly pushed through the thick bushes, burst into the fading sunlight. A harsh gust of wind snapped her braids into her face. Across the park, the kids with the Frisbee were laughing and shrieking, blissfully unaware of the atrocity that had taken place so close to where they played.

Maia shivered. Then she hitched the strap of her bag further up her shoulder and set off towards the subway station at a run.

* * *

Like always, I would absolutely _love_ reviews - especially on this, because I'd really like to know how I'm doing. So please, drop a comment into the box, and I'll get the first chapter up that much faster. ;)


	2. Chapter One

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**********Notes:** *keysmash* You guys are the absolute best. Thank you times a million for all the feedback - as a reward for your loveliness, chapter one! (it's very long. don't expect quite so much in the future. xD)

Two things I forgot to put in the prologue's gigantic author's note: first, the title is from Marina and the Diamonds' _Rootless_. Second, this fic takes place in an AU-post-CoG world where I don't have to deal with Sebastian or Jace being a human lightbulb or Magnus and Alec breaking up. Sorry for any confusion the lack of that crucial information might've caused!

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

The heavy brass clang of the Institute's doorbell rolled down the corridor like a wave of thunder. Church, who up until a moment ago had been slinking after a troublesome bit of fuzz, startled violently, hissed, and scrabbled away in a panic. Alec didn't blame him for running – he'd never liked the bell either, and his hearing was no better than the average human's. The sound made his teeth rattle. He leaned over and yanked at his knotted shoelaces as the ringing tapered off into silence.

"Alec?" his father yelled.

"Yeah, I've got it," he called back. The laces came loose and he kicked his muddy boots beneath the bench - he really needed new ones, he thought, these were so ancient that the soles had no traction at all - before padding into the elevator.

Not for the first time today, slouched against the mirrored wall, he reflected that the entire afternoon had been a waste of time. He hadn't had plans, but he'd begun to wish he could come up with something that would take him well out of Manhattan the instant Diana Ashdown came stomping into the Institute's library. Alec was browsing through their woefully lacking _Magic_ section at the time, idly wondering if there was anything in the fridge he could eat for lunch and not die of, and he had no chance to duck out of sight before her abrupt arrival. Her nostrils flared white when she spotted him. Luckily, he didn't seem to be the target of her fury; dragging her youngest daughter along by the hand, she came to an abrupt halt in front of the desk. "Is Alanna here?"

Robert had finished the letter he was writing just prior to her entry. Now he blinked at her about five times. He was not the sort of man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but Alec knew him well enough to see that his father was wondering exactly who the hell had let her into his house. He didn't put voice to the thought, however, instead simply replied, "I don't believe so."

"Alanna," Diana snapped as if he hadn't spoken. "She has to be here. She snuck out of the hotel this morning while we were all asleep and there's nowhere else she'd go."

"I saw her leave," Lily piped up, hanging off her mother's arm. "I woke up and she looked at me and did _this_ -" she placed a finger to her lips, "so I just went back to sleep."

Diana threw her daughter a sharp glare that Lily didn't notice and said, "Yes, so Clark and I didn't even know until two hours later. She's not come back yet."

Alec shrugged when his father's inquisitive gaze landed on him. "I haven't seen anybody but Izzy," he said, tilting a book out of the row to read its title. "And Church would've let us know if someone came in."

"Trusting your home security to a cat," Diana muttered. "If she's not here, then something's happened to her."

"You can't be sure about that," Robert pointed out - quite reasonably, Alec thought, but Diana bristled. "Have you looked for her?"

Almost unnoticeably, Diana's shoulders sank, and some of the edge had gone from her voice when she admitted, "I wouldn't know where to start, except here. Clark's looking, but…." She swallowed. "Something must have happened to her."

Alec really did not want to feel sorry for Diana. Every time they met, she was so rude and abrasive that he made a point of avoiding her and the unpleasant memories her presence invoked, but she was also Alanna's mother. Should anyone have a sixth sense that could tell them something was wrong with a child, it was their parent. Once, after she'd drank far too much wine, Maryse confided to Alec that she had known, when she and Robert returned to the Penhallows' house the night Alicante was attacked, they would not find Max alive. If Diana was shelving her monumental pride and asking them for help, she truly thought she needed it.

Robert must have come to the same conclusion, because he leaned back in his chair, scrutinized Diana for a second, and said, "Alexander, get your sister."

Despite his misgivings, Alec did as requested. He and Isabelle privately agreed that Alanna had most likely made a desperate bid for freedom from her overbearing mother - it certainly sounded like she'd left willingly - but a sheltered preteen girl in an unfamiliar city _was_ a recipe for disaster.

That had been five hours ago. Alec had since traversed what felt like half the city on foot, trying to think like an eleven-year-old girl, which was quite difficult as he'd never once _been_ an eleven-year-old girl. He couldn't even begin to imagine where she might have gone, aside from the usual places like parks and playgrounds. Now, as the elevator trundled down into the cathedral, he thought that if Alanna had reappeared after all this time, he was turning her over to her mother without remorse. His sympathy had run dry around four o'clock, when Diana returned to the hotel to check if Alanna had come back. On her way through the lobby, she'd found, lying near a potted plant, a favorite bracelet of her daughter's. The clasp was broken and it had probably fallen off while Alanna slipped out of the hotel. "We might be able to track her with it," she'd said after they regrouped at the Institute, turning to fix Alec with a pointed look. "Don't you have a warlock?"

Nettled, Alec said, "He doesn't _belong_ to me. And we don't actually need him, Jace taught me the tracking rune Magnus showed him." Diana pursed her lips, but finally held the bracelet out, and he took it. Then he drew his stele from his pocket and sketched the rune across the back of his hand.

Nothing had happened. He'd tried it twice more as afternoon stretched into evening, but each time, he couldn't draw even a flicker of a location from the bracelet. Either it wasn't as important to Alanna as Diana thought it was, or his rune was inaccurate, or….

Alec's bare feet kicked up puffs of dust as he crossed the cathedral floor, wishing he'd left his shoes on and keeping an eye out for lurking arachnids. Spiders caused him enough distress already and he had no desire to discover what they felt like squished between his toes. He reached the massive doors without incident, turned the lock, and swung the nearest one open.

The banshee screech of the unoiled hinge made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. But he'd been expecting it - the girl outside, however, obviously had not been. She jumped at the sound and gave a little yelp, her hand flying up as if to ward off a blow. "Oh," she said an instant later, arm dropping down to her side, "it's just you. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention - that scared the hell out of me."

Alec stared at her for a moment. She was vaguely familiar - _werewolf_, he realized automatically, the thought tickling at his mind like the brush of hair against skin - but her name and what reason she might have for being here were both eluding him. He had never been good at remembering names. His brain was like a scrapbook, catching images of interesting details and lining them up page by page, then cataloguing those pages into categories. _Parents. Siblings. The Conclave. Important Shadowhunters. Other Shadowhunters of Debatable Importance. Isabelle's Boyfriends. Werewolves. Vampires. Warlocks. Girls Who've Hit On Jace. Girls I've Met Whom I Don't Want Dead. Boys I've Met Whom I Don't Want Dead. Attractive People. _(He'd been about twelve when he noticed the alarming overlap between those last two.) Then Magnus had come bursting into his life and threw everything into a whirlwind until Alec shoved him in his own filing cabinet. The inside of Alec's head was a well-organized place, save for the lockbox of things he'd tried so hard to shut away that he could very nearly forget they'd happened at all.

"Maia," he recalled out loud. She was his sister's friend - no, not friend, Isabelle bitched about her all the time, usually when Maia and Simon were off doing something and Isabelle hadn't been invited along. Jace fully expected the two girls to get into a glorious catfight any day now. If that was why Maia had come by, she was out of luck, because Isabelle was still out scouring the streets of Manhattan. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

Maia fiddled with one of her many braids, twisting the bead on the end around and around. "Have any of you guys lost a little girl, by any chance?"

Alec raised his eyebrows. "We have, actually, but she's not a _little_ little girl, she's about eleven. She's…." He tried to remember what Alanna looked like. Last time he'd seen her, she'd been a shrunken copy of her mother, right down to the proud tilt of her shoulders. Alanna had smiled considerably more often, though. "Kind of small. _Really_ blonde hair."

"Platinum," Maia said grimly, nodding.

"Right." He could think of no more details, and Maia looked away, tugging on her braids. She'd not actually met his eyes once during their short conversation. "Have you found her?"

She nodded again. "I think so."

Suddenly acutely aware of Alanna's bracelet bunched up in the pocket of his jeans, Alec braced himself against the door and quietly said, "She's dead, isn't she."

Maia made a sound that was almost a laugh, but the horror flashing through her eyes proved she was anything but amused. "It's sort of hard to be alive when you're cut up like that."

Even though he'd brought it up, Alec's instinctive reaction to her words was denial. He had no guarantee the girl Maia spoke of was Alanna. Plenty of Shadowhunters resided within the city… did any of them have young daughters? _No_, he thought. There were no others. Unclenching his fingers from the doorframe, he stepped back, giving Maia enough room to enter. "Come on."

She gave him a confused glance, peered into the Institute, then visibly steeled herself and stepped over the threshold. "Relax, werewolves are allowed in," he said, locking the door again and leading her towards the elevator.

"Oh," Maia said softly. She glanced around like she expected a horde of Nephilim to leap out of the shadows beneath the dusty pews and start interrogating her. "I've never been in one of these before."

Alec didn't think of making some remark about waiting for the grand tour until they were already in the elevator. Jace would've cracked it anyway, but Alec had the feeling it would be inappropriate. He slid his hand into his pocket and wound Alanna's bracelet around his fingers. Maia was hunched against the wall, arms folded beneath her breasts, looking apprehensive - whether because of the impending questioning, or because the elevator had developed a death rattle in addition to its usual wheeze, he didn't know. As soon as it ground to a halt, he tugged the gate aside and beckoned Maia to keep following him down the hall.

One of the library doors was propped open with a brick. Maryse _hated_ when they did that - she insisted it would scratch the wood - and Hodge had always complied with her wishes, but Robert didn't fear her wrath the way he had. He was sitting behind the desk again when they came in. He hadn't left the Institute to search for Alanna, as he'd been engaged in some sort of urgent correspondence with the Consul, and now he looked up to see his son and a werewolf girl before him. Alec didn't give him time to ask questions. "Maia might've found Alanna," he said. "And she's probably dead."

Robert paled about five shades. He opened his mouth, but no words came forth, and after a few seconds he sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his mouth. "You're one of Lucian's, right?" he said to Maia.

"Yeah," she said. Unasked, she explained, "I left my friend's apartment a little while ago and we could smell blood, so we followed it to the park, and we -" She faltered. Robert said nothing, just waited for her to continue. It was better that she was talking to his father, Alec thought - he was capable of getting the information he needed without being utterly terrifying. Maryse could make grown men cry. "We found a little blonde girl," Maia continued, curling a braid around her thumb. "I'm not _sure_ she was a Shadowhunter, to be honest, Bat said she smelled like one but all I could smell was blood - I don't know if she had any runes -"

"She wouldn't have," Robert said. "She wasn't old enough to be Marked." He sighed again and looked to Alec. "Call your sister. Tell her to bring Diana back here."

Alec nodded and stepped away, letting Maia's and his father's voices fall into a low background murmur as he dialed the familiar number. Isabelle picked up on the third ring. "_Please_ tell me you've found Alanna, or I am going to strangle her mother," she hissed. She'd taken having to search for Alanna in stride, since her afternoon was shaping up to be as dull as Alec's, but balked at the prospect of journeying around the city with Diana. They'd flipped a coin to decide who would have the honor. "I swear, this woman is so frigging _frustrating_ - it's like she's completely forgotten that _she_ asked _us_ for help! I asked this werewolf I went out with once if he'd seen Alanna, and Diana wanted to know who he was, so I told her, and I'm pretty sure she called me a 'brazen whore' under her breath."

If dating Downworlders made someone a brazen whore, then that meant Alec was one too. Magnus would probably find that funny. "Izzy," he said, cutting off his sister's tirade, "how far away are you?"

"About five blocks. We've gone in a giant circle."

"Come back."

"Why? Did you -"

"Just come back, both of you," Alec said. He hung up before she could ask and returned to Maia's side - she was standing in the middle of the room awkwardly, hands shoved in her pockets, while Robert spoke quietly to someone on the phone. Alec had just opened his mouth to tell her she could sit, if she wanted to, when there was a sound behind him.

He didn't expect to see his mother when he turned around, although there was no one else it could have been. Maryse had come down with a cold a few weeks ago, which would've gone away on its own had she not insisted on working through it; as a result, she'd developed pneumonia and spent much of the past week in bed. She stood in the doorway now, wrapped in her bathrobe, hair tied back untidily, her skin stretched so tightly over her bones that it seemed almost too small for her skeleton - but it was in her usual clipped tones that she said, "Well, what's going on?"

"Alanna might be dead," Alec said matter-of-factly.

Maryse's lips flattened into a white line, but no surprise crossed her face. She'd probably expected as much from the moment Isabelle had told her where she and Alec were going earlier. She had a tendency to assume the worst. Unfortunately, she was often correct. Tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, she came in and sat in an armchair by the unlit fireplace. "Have you called Kadir?" she asked Robert.

Robert replaced the phone on its cradle. "Yes. Isabelle's bringing Diana back here, as well."

"You should've waited," Maryse said tartly, smothering a cough in her hand. "It would be better if we knew for certain first. How do you think she'll feel not knowing?"

Robert's face darkened. Alec felt Maia shift uncomfortably, and he wanted to tell her that it was all right - there wasn't enough tension electrifying the air for his parents to start arguing - but then the elevator gate clattered, and as one they looked to the hallway.

"You may want to back up," Maryse suggested. The two of them quickly moved away, leaving a clear path from doors to desk.

The door to the library was already ajar, but Alec still had the impression it was being thrown wide open as Diana strode into the room in the same manner she had earlier. Isabelle slipped in behind her, caught Alec's eye, and made a wringing motion with her hands, glaring at Diana's back. He quickly shook his head at her. Frowning, Isabelle abandoned the gesture and swept her rain-dampened hair out of her face. Her eyebrows rose when she spotted Maia, but she came to stand with them nonetheless.

Diana gave the room a cursory glance before fixing Robert with a frown. "Where is my daughter?"

"Diana," Robert began.

"Where. Is. She?" Diana ground out, the full stops between words clearly audible.

Robert's gaze flickered to his wife for an instant - if he was looking for help, he wouldn't find it there, because Maryse was a big fan of lying in the bed you'd made - and then he sighed and folded his hands together. "A body has been found," he said gently. Isabelle made a little noise and dug her fingers into Alec's wrist. "We haven't seen it yet, we can't confirm it's Alanna's, but you should be -"

A _crack_ echoed around the room as Diana slapped her hand down on the surface of the desk. Robert's pen rolled to the floor. "Your _body_ is not my daughter," she said hotly, leaning towards him. "I don't care what you've found, I asked you to help me find _Alanna_."

"We -"

"She's not dead," Diana went on. Her shoulders heaved. She was quite a pretty woman, ordinarily, although her tendency to scowl brought her looks down to average - but now her face was twisted with rage and something dangerously close to grief. Alec had seen that expression before. Maryse was blank-faced, watching Diana through sunken eyes. "It's getting dark, it's _cold_, she's out there alone somewhere and I need to find her. If you're just going to sit here, then I'll do it myself. She is not dead, she _cannot_ be dead!" Diana's voice was rising out of her control. From the corner of his eye, Alec saw Maia's hands jerk, like she itched to clamp them over her ears. "She's _eleven years old_, and I _will_ _not_ go back to the hotel and tell my husband that his little girl is gone! _How do you expect me to tell Adam and Lily that their sister is dead_?!"

No one seemed to know quite what to say in the ringing silence that followed. Diana was visibly shaking, her breath hissing through her teeth. Finally, Maryse stood, taking the other woman by the elbow. The glare Diana gave her was probably meant to be scathing, but her eyes were overbright, her lips trembled, and she couldn't quite manage it. "Come with me," Maryse said. It was the gentlest tone Alec had ever heard his mother use with her. And, for the first time, Diana went along without a word, letting Maryse guide her out of the library and close the door behind them.

Robert placed his face in his hands. Alec wished he could think of something reassuring to say - the two of them had had a strained relationship since Alec catapulted himself out of the closet two months ago, but Robert was still his father, even if his _modus operandi_ at the moment was pretending Alec had never tried to suck out his warlock boyfriend's tonsils in front of the entire Clave. He still occasionally looked at his son like he was mentally reliving that scene again and again, though. Alec had chosen not to address this. It would blow over eventually.

"Isabelle," Robert said, lifting his head again, "take Maia home."

"No!" both girls said in unison. Robert blinked. "No, it's okay," Maia continued hurriedly, "I can get home myself. I promise not to skip town or anything."

"Besides, I'm going with you guys," Isabelle added, setting her hands on her hips like she was daring him to argue. He just closed his eyes briefly and nodded - Maryse would've put her foot down, but Robert was more inclined to let Isabelle do as she pleased.

The desk phone rang. Robert picked it up, listened for about ten seconds, and said, "All right," before hanging up again. "Kadir's meeting me in Brooklyn. If you're coming, let's go," he instructed, stepping out from behind the desk.

Were he being perfectly honest with himself, Alec would have admitted that he had zero desire to find out if the body in the park was of the sunny little girl who had once convinced Isabelle to braid her hair and then let Max color the plaits with his markers. He shoved his feet into his boots anyway because it was expected of him, wound the overlong laces around his ankles and knotted them. Maia had already taken off. He didn't blame her for wanting to get away as fast as possible. "Do you really think it's her?" Isabelle asked, zipping her coat.

Robert shook his head and said, "I don't know." The words dropped from his lips like stones. "I hope not."

There was blood on Alec's wrist where Isabelle's nails had bitten into his skin. He rubbed it away, shrugged into his jacket, and joined his father and sister in the elevator.

The ride into Brooklyn was cold. Dinnertime rush hour meant the subway cars became sardine cans, but the three of them managed to cram into a corner without any suspicious substances on the seats. Isabelle was squashed between Alec and the wall - on his other side was a burly man with shifty eyes whom Alec didn't want anywhere near his sister - and she coiled and uncoiled her whip around her arm like a glittering snake. Robert sat across from them and stared stoically at the advertisement for a reality show above their heads until the train stopped at the station Maia had indicated. Kadir was waiting for them on the platform. "Robert," he greeted when they stepped out of the car. He gave Alec and Isabelle a nod before looking back to their father. "I hope you know where we're going."

Alec trailed behind Isabelle as they climbed the stairs up to the street, rolling one of the charms on Alanna's bracelet between his fingers. There was still a possibility, however slight, that the body wouldn't belong to her. Alec had no particular attachment to Alanna - she wasn't even a family friend, technically, since their families kind of hated each other - but every time he reminded himself of that fact, he saw Diana shrieking at his father across the desk the same way his mother had shouted at Jia Penhallow in the Hall. And Alanna was only a kid. Little blonde girl, little dark-haired, bespectacled boy… there wasn't much of a difference, in the end. Isabelle strode ahead, face set, her damp skirt slopping against her ankles, and Alec had to lengthen his stride to keep pace. "Slow down," he muttered, "you don't even know where we're headed."

Isabelle's fingers glided along the smooth electrum of her whip, as if to remind herself it was still there. None of them were geared up, as they didn't anticipate a fight, but she brought it nearly everywhere - it was as much fashion accessory as it was weapon to her. "I need to know," she said. "It's so much worse not knowing for sure."

They reached the park Maia had directed them to in just a few minutes. Alec had never been there before and he immediately thought it was not a place he wanted to familiarize himself with. In Manhattan, the parks were typically teeming with people well after sundown, even in November, but this wide expanse of grass was eerily desolate, the bare trees creaking in the wind. It was the sort of place you'd _expect_ to find a murdered girl, or perhaps a secret passageway into the Underworld. Thinking he'd gladly take the latter over the former, Alec wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and buried his hands in his pockets.

Up ahead, Robert rumbled something to Kadir and nodded towards a cluster of trees off to the side - there was a guy there, Alec realized suddenly, lurking in the edges of the shadows like he was trying not to be seen and trying not to hide at the same time. Maia had mentioned leaving her friend behind to make sure nothing got at the girl. He stiffened as they approached, eyes darting over Alec and Isabelle before landing on Robert and Kadir. "She's in there," was all he said, jerking his head at the grove.

"Thank you," Robert said. He motioned for Kadir to go in first. Clark Ashdown and Kadir had known each other since childhood, and Kadir was more likely to be able to identify Alanna than the rest of them, considering none of the Lightwoods had so much as glimpsed the girl in four years. Diana seemed to have decided that they would corrupt her children. Maybe she thought Alanna and Lily, at least, might catch the ridiculous notion that it was okay to date Downworlders or something - her son Adam was older than Alec and unlikely to be influenced one way or another.

Kadir plunged into the bushes, followed closely by Robert, and Alec made sure to get in ahead of Isabelle, just in case. The thick smell of blood was evident now, even to those without werewolf super-senses. They squeezed through a tangled mess of spiny branches and wet, dead leaves, and Alec was just starting to wonder why _anyone_ would venture into this mess for any reason when they abruptly found themselves in a small, secluded clearing.

Kadir stopped dead. Robert walked right into him. Though Alec pulled up before he could crash into his father's back, he could still see over Robert's shoulder, and -

The noise that escaped Alec's throat did not sound human. He wheeled around, grabbed Isabelle by the shoulders before she finished detangling herself from the clinging vines, and turned her away. "Hey!" she protested, but Alec was already shoving her back into the bushes. "What are you -"

"_Go_," Alec said harshly, prodding her along. Isabelle grumbled something doubtlessly filthy and hiked up her skirt to more easily clamber through the brush. "Just go, Izzy."

"I didn't -"

"You don't want to."

Maia's friend was long gone when they emerged from the trees. Isabelle tugged her shoe from the grasp of a particularly damp bush, cursing, and then whirled on Alec. "What the hell was that?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not _five_, dear brother, you can't just drag me away like a misbehaving child."

"Shut up!" he snapped, then instantly regretted it. "Look, I - you _don't want to see that_. You don't."

Isabelle's lips puckered, but after a long moment of crackling tension, her face softened and she nodded, a sigh escaping her lips. "Was it her?"

"I don't know," Alec said. He slumped against a tree trunk and rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away the image glued to the backs of his eyelids like it had been plastered there on Post-It notes. He wanted to remember Alanna giggling and flipping her rainbow-colored braids, completely unaware of her mother's apoplexy, not as… _that_. Not bloodstained and pallid, her chest yawning open right down the middle, splayed on the grass like a mounted butterfly. Bile crept up his throat and he choked it back. Sliced with a blade, struck with a hammer. No difference, really.

They waited outside the glen, not speaking, until Robert battled his way out, brushing leaves from his jacket. All he had to do, when his children looked at him, was nod gravely. Isabelle's face shuttered and she turned away. Alec closed his eyes.

"Go home," Robert said. "Let your mother know. Have her call the Silent Brothers, they'll need to take - the body." Instructions laid out, he went back into the woods. Isabelle waited just long enough for his broad back to be lost in the shadows before she whipped out her cell phone and started punching buttons.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Mom," she said without looking at her brother. "I don't know about you, but I don't really want to go back home right now. I'm going to find Simon and make him distract me."

Sighing, Alec leaned his head against the scratchy bark and murmured, "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Well, get your own geeky vampire, I'm not sharing mine."

Alec wrinkled his nose. "The _distracting_ part, not Simon." Admittedly, almost anything would be better than letting his mind wander into that grassy clearing again, but the vampire had never done much for him. Talking to him always made Alec feel like he was being sucked into a whirlpool of pop-culture references he had no hope of understanding. Besides, Simon was Isabelle's paramour _du jour_, and Alec didn't want to become the sort of guy who stole his sister's boyfriends. It was easy when most of them were abhorrent, though. "I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah," Isabelle said, running a hand through her hair. She gave the grove one last, unreadable glance, then turned on her heel and headed toward the street with long, purposeful strides. Alec hoped Simon didn't have any other plans for tonight, because Isabelle was about to smash them into glitter-sized pieces.

According to his watch, it was six-thirty - Magnus was probably home by now. Even if he wasn't, Alec could do what he wished he'd done seven hours ago and keep Chairman Meow company until the warlock returned from whatever he had been called out for. And then he could provide a distraction. Alec hunched his shoulders against the wind, crammed his hands into his pockets, pretended the warm links of Alanna's bracelet brushing his knuckles didn't feel like needles, and began making his way towards Greenpoint.

* * *

Magnus makes his debut in chapter two, I promise! Want to see it before Monday? You know what to do. ;)


	3. Chapter Two

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**************Notes:** Thanks to everyone who's left a review (or two) so far, they absolutely make my day... and also fill me with a crippling sense of terror that I won't live up to your expectations, but that's hardly anything new. xD

Now, the moment you've all been waiting for: some actual Malec content!

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Chairman Meow was scratching frantically at Magnus's door when Alec reached the top of the stairs. He'd been able to hear the cat crying from the first floor, but that was no indicator of whether or not the warlock was actually home - he might be in the shower, or asleep, or listening to terrible techno-pop music with a bassline that made Alec's heart skip beats. "Okay, okay," Alec said, digging his key from his jacket pocket as Chairman Meow twined himself around his ankles imploringly.

Stepping into Magnus's apartment was like sinking into a hot bath at the close of a long day - warm and comforting, familiar and calming. Emphasis on the 'calming', too, now that Magnus had done away with the eye-bleeding tie-dyed theme he'd had in the living room for a week. He had claimed it fondly reminded him of the seventies; Alec had said if he'd learnt anything from watching bad television with Magnus, it was that the only people who _wanted_ to be reminded of the seventies were the ones who'd been on so many psychotropic drugs that they couldn't actually _remember_ the seventies. Magnus took it to heart and redid the room. Alec wasn't sure what this particular style of decor was called, but it looked like the furniture section of a trendy thrift shop - absolutely nothing matched. It was still better than the tie-dye, though.

He glanced back to see Chairman Meow had sprawled on the landing and was contentedly licking his paw. "Are you coming in or not?" Alec asked. The cat yawned and tugged at a claw with his teeth. "Fine." Alec closed the door.

He hadn't even counted to five when the scratching started up. He reopened the door and Chairman Meow surged inside, scrambling beneath the couch. "Pain in the ass," Alec muttered, closing the door again and toeing off his boots.

Magnus _was_ home, as it turned out. Alec discovered him seated at the table in the study, surrounded by a veritable mountain of books, scratching something onto a long roll of paper and mumbling under his breath. His hair stood up in blue-streaked tufts, like he'd been tugging at it fitfully for hours. Deciding perhaps it would be best not to interrupt and startle him into setting something on fire (which happened more often than either of them would like, since Magnus was easily absorbed in his work and Alec walked very quietly), Alec edged around the book towers and surveyed the mess littering the table. Paper, pots of ink in every possible shade, more books, a long, multi-colored feather fashioned into a quill, lit and unlit candles, a ball of yarn, numerous magical gadgets Alec couldn't even begin to guess at the function of… he found his gaze irresistibly drawn to a sheet of parchment, so old it was worn soft as tissue, covered in some demon language built from dots and swirling whorls that made Alec dizzy.

He didn't realize he was staring at the page, enraptured, until Magnus's hand appeared from nowhere and folded the paper over on itself. "Don't look at that," he warned, "it'll give you a headache."

Alec shook his head, blinked hard to dispel the spirals from his vision. "No kidding." The skin around his eyes was already starting to throb. He left the desk behind and wandered over to the row of shelves stacked against the far wall. "We didn't have that book you wanted, by the way," he said, idly inspecting a tall glass bottle that appeared to be full of purple smoke.

"Pity," Magnus murmured.

Next to the bottle of smoke was another, smaller bottle. Alec took it curiously and held it up to the light - the substance inside was white, shimmery, and as fine as mist. It looked like…. "Is this _glitter_?"

Magnus finally looked up. "No," he said when he saw what Alec was holding. "It's… ghost-detecting dust, I suppose." Alec raised an eyebrow and glanced at the bottle again, shaking it slightly and watching the pearlescent powder inside cloud the glass. "Do try not to drop it, it's the last of its kind."

"Ghost-detecting dust," repeated Alec, who was trying to figure out if the existence of such a thing was genius or madness.

"Yes, dear. It was invented by Henry Branwell - I don't suppose you've heard of him?"

"It's a Shadowhunter name," Alec said, "but no, I don't think I have."

Magnus sighed. "I'm not surprised." He gave whatever he'd been writing so intently a despairing sort of look, rolled it up, and lit it afire with a touch of his finger. It burned to nothing in seconds, the ash sifting down onto the table. "He was a nineteenth-century inventor. He designed the Portal - he intended to use Nephilim runes, of course, which was impossible, but the concept itself was sound. One of the most brilliant men I've ever met. _Tragically_ underappreciated." He sighed again. "There are some people you just click with…."

Alec wasn't entirely sure he liked the faintly wistful tone in Magnus's voice when he spoke of this man, but he was too worn out to start an argument over it. "Oh." He replaced the little bottle on the shelf. When he turned back, Magnus had swiveled the chair around and was scrutinizing Alec closely, the flickering candlelight lending an odd sheen to his unusual eyes. "What?"

"Are you all right?"

Trust Magnus to see right through him. Alec had almost forgotten, for a while, what had transpired earlier - he'd felt strangely detached as he left the park and took the subway to Magnus's apartment, and once he arrived he realized he couldn't remember the ride at all. "Rough day," was all he said.

Magnus wasn't about to let him get away with that, though. He beckoned Alec over; when Alec ventured within arm's reach, Magnus snagged him by the hips and yanked him down into his lap. "Or," he said, taking Alec's arm and peering at the fingernail marks scored into his wrist, "you could tell me what's bothering you so I know how to help."

"Isabelle did that," Alec said, "and there's nothing you can do, really." Magnus could not bring dead people back to life. He'd gone off on a rant about it once - there was always _someone_ who was willing to pay whatever it took to get someone back, and while he felt for them, there was nothing to be done and no amount of pleading would change the laws of reality. Alec leaned his head against Magnus's neck and twisted his family ring around his finger, watched the candlelight glint off the band. "The Ashdowns' daughter was found dead earlier."

"I see," Magnus said, his hand skating across the taut line of Alec's shoulders. "You'll have to forgive me, though, I don't know who that is."

"Well, they're Shadowhunters, obviously. They live somewhere on Long Island, used to come into the city to visit friends every couple of years. We didn't even know they were here until Diana Ashdown burst in this afternoon because her daughter Alanna had gone missing. We were looking for her for hours… we didn't find her, though, Maia did. She followed the smell of blood." He fell silent for a moment. He could feel Magnus's pulse beating against his lips. "She was _eleven_, Magnus," Alec whispered. "What - _whoever_ did to her… it was just _wrong_. She used to play with Max, sometimes." And now they were both dead.

Magnus sighed and turned his head to kiss Alec's hair. "I'm sorry, darling. That's horrible."

"We don't know who did it," Alec heard himself say. "We won't know unless the Silent Brothers find something. I don't even think she was kidnapped. There was no reason for her to end up dead. She snuck out of the hotel."

"Her family doesn't stay with you?"

Alec straightened up, scrubbed his face with his palms and carded his fingers through his hair, which was still slightly damp from the afternoon's rain. "They used to. It was always really uncomfortable, though - Diana _hates_ my mother. She lost both of her sisters in the Uprising and she blames Mom for it. She doesn't like me, either," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I punched her son once."

"_You_?"

"He called Isabelle a slut," Alec said defensively.

Magnus cocked an eyebrow. "And… she didn't rip off his face and wear it as a Halloween mask?"

"She wasn't there. It was just Jace and I, and he was trying to piss us off." Alec shrugged. "It worked. Diana was furious, but I think what really got her was my mom didn't even believe that I'd actually hit him. That was a few years ago. They stopped staying with us after that."

"I'm sure you all were devastated."

"Oh, it was a real hardship." Alec rested his chin atop Magnus's hair, which was soft and unadorned and smelled pleasantly of sandalwood. "So that was _my_ day."

"Well, it's not over yet. Have you eaten?" Magnus asked, running a fingertip just beneath the collar of Alec's t-shirt.

"Not since breakfast." He hadn't actually gotten around to having lunch at any point. "But I'm not hungry, to be honest." Even if he had been, he wasn't entirely certain he was up for Magnus's cooking. While Magnus wasn't a culinary tragedy in the making the way Isabelle was, he tended to be _adventurous_. Some of his creations had turned out delicious, others came to the table looking like they should be salted, burned, and buried in consecrated ground so they could never reanimate.

"Mm. Forgetting to eat is unhealthy, and you, my dear, have a habit." Magnus slid out from beneath Alec in a sinuous move that would have been quite impossible if the chair had arms, leaving Alec seated. "So I'm making dinner. You're much too scrawny anyway."

"I'm not scrawny," Alec protested. Magnus made a disagreeable sound and fluttered off. Alec sat there for a moment longer, dumbfounded, then launched himself out of the chair and followed the warlock down the hallway. "Magnus," he said, bracing his hands against the kitchen doorframe, "I'm not _scrawny_."

"No, you're not," Magnus acquiesced. He leaned down and began rooting through the fridge like a pig hunting for truffles. Alec glowered at him, although he knew Magnus couldn't see it - he'd chomped at the bait and now Magnus had him right where he wanted him. "Get your cute behind in here and give me a hand."

Later, Alec wouldn't be able to remember what they had for dinner. He was pretty sure there had been tomato sauce involved, but he zoned out, ate mechanically, and was only dimly aware of Magnus shooting him concerned looks. "Earth to Alec," Magnus said, after they'd finished eating. "Come down from your orbit and listen to me."

Alec blinked and tilted his head up. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, letting Chairman Meow use him as a jungle gym. When, exactly, he had migrated into the living room, he could not recall. "What?"

Magnus crouched before him, elbows on his knees, and said, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do? You've been off on the moon for the past hour and you look miserable."

"Oh. I don't think -" All at once, Alec remembered the reason he'd come to Magnus's apartment in the first place, aside from his tendency to automatically seek comfort from his boyfriend whenever he was upset. "Actually, yes. Isabelle was going to get Simon to distract her from what happened tonight and I thought I needed to do that."

"I'm not convinced Simon's going to be on board with that."

"Not _Simon_," Alec exclaimed, startling Chairman Meow, who fell off his shoulder, landed less-than-gracefully, and gave Alec a reproachful look. "Why does everyone think I want Simon? I don't even _like_ Simon."

"You do so," Magnus said. "But I think you'll find I'm vastly superior to him when it comes to the art of providing distractions. Let's go, then, the floor's too uncomfortable for this."

Alec allowed Magnus to grasp his forearms and draw him to his feet without resistance. He had a solid point about the floor - the hardwood was ice-cold and creaky below his feet - but Alec was impatient enough that they'd hardly made it into the bedroom before he was grabbing Magnus by the ostentatious ruffles on his shirt and yanking him closer.

"Relax, relax," Magnus soothed, like he was trying to calm a wild horse. He disengaged Alec's fingers from his shirt and stroked his cheek. "Just let me handle this, okay?"

"Letting you handle things usually leads to glitter."

A smirk tugged at Magnus's mouth. "I promise not to glitter-bomb you," he said solemnly, and without another word he swooped in.

The kiss was soft, pliant, and aggravatingly gentle. Alec didn't want gentle. He wanted Magnus to _thrill_ him, blow his mind, drive the demons out of his skull. He settled back against the door, though, and let Magnus coax his lips apart. Magnus was a good kisser - he was good at the whole kit and caboodle, honestly, it was the sort of thing one picked up over the course of a few centuries - but he delved into Alec's mouth so _delicately_ that Alec could've killed him. Gentle, gentle, gentle… by the Angel, it was their first time having sex all over again. Alec had dwelled on that for weeks, and the thought had gradually morphed from terrifying to intriguing to downright exciting, so by the time their relationship escalated to that point, he was past ready and well into what Isabelle would've called 'gagging for it'. Magnus had treated him like glass then, too. The warlock was a huge advocate of foreplay, which wasn't awful but took up a lot of time Alec thought could've been put to better use. The sex _had_ been amazing, of course, even with what felt like half a decade of foreplay, and after they'd made it through that perilous first time, Magnus was much more willing to concede to Alec's long-hidden aggressive side.

Except now, it seemed. _Screw this_, Alec thought. He tucked his fingers into the pockets of Magnus's jeans and _pulled_.

Magnus's teeth closed sharply on Alec's lower lip as their hips met. "Impetuous little bastard," he hissed, but Alec's actions had the desired effect - Magnus abandoned his careful ministrations and rucked Alec's shirt up.

Everything got rather heated after that. Delighted with this outcome - Magnus might've been 'handling' this, but Alec was the one calling the shots - Alec let Magnus wrestle control of the situation from him and just drifted. Soon enough, he wouldn't have the presence of mind to think at all. Magnus was marvelous at that sort of thing. And he relished putting his considerable sexual skill to use, too, especially on someone as hopelessly inexperienced as Alec. Sometimes, Alec thought Magnus enjoyed it even more than Alec himself did - he _thrived_ on showing the Shadowhunter exactly what he'd been missing all these years. He knew when to back off, as well, before Alec kicked himself into a panic, which happened now and then and which Magnus had long since learnt how to anticipate. They'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm. They slept in the same bed and had long, stupid conversations and fought and screamed at each other and had incredible make-up sex and it was a wonderfully flawed perfection Alec had never _imagined_ he could be a part of. Even if he ended up as no more than a footnote in the epic poem of Magnus's life, it was worth it.

"Alec," Magnus said.

Alec opened his eyes. Magnus was flushed, deliciously rumpled, one of his hands tangled in Alec's hair, and he looked concerned again. "You still with me?" he asked, skimming his other hand down Alec's side.

"Yeah," Alec murmured. "I'm not… out of it, or anything. I was thinking about you."

Magnus smiled - not his usual slapdash widescreen grin that could mean a thousand things or nothing at all, but a _real_ smile, slow and sweet and beautiful like sunlight rippling across the water. "In that case, carry on," he said, and then he tugged Alec's hair, jerking his head back, and went for the throat.

Alec punched him.

It was a remarkably surreal moment. The reaction had been pure, knee-jerk reflex - Magnus was in no way prepared for it and he stumbled back, overbalanced, and landed on his rear, cursing and clutching his ribs. Alec barely noticed. He slid down to the floor, curling in on himself, a hand pressed to the back of his head. His heart rate had leapt to truly anomalous speeds - it slammed against the hollow of his throat so violently that, for a second, he thought he'd throw up.

"Alexander," Magnus began in a freezing tone. He'd regained his faculties, which had momentarily deserted him when his usually-docile boyfriend _punched him in the ribs_, and he was fit to kill. "What the _hell_ is your problem?!"

Alec stared at him wildly, still clutching at his tousled hair. He said, "Don't do that again," but it came out shrill and brittle instead of firm like he'd intended. "Don't pull my hair like that."

Magnus threw his hands into the air. "And it wasn't enough to just _say_ that?" he snapped. "We've _talked_ about this!"

They had. The two of them were still in the early stages of sexual exploration, but they had already established that Alec got absolutely nothing out of being restrained - in fact, the one and only time they'd tried it, he'd become anxious enough that it took him half an hour to calm down. Magnus had derided bondage and whatnot as "a bit overdone, anyway" and proceeded to undo Alec so thoroughly that he was pretty sure he blacked out for a few seconds when he came.

"I didn't know," Alec said, wrapping his free arm around his knees. "I'm sorry, I didn't _know_ -"

Magnus was still glaring at him. Alec sunk into himself, rubbed his scalp. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Closing his eyes, Magnus drew in a deep breath, blew it out, and when he opened his eyes, most of the fire had been extinguished. "It's all right. I'll live." He gave Alec a speculative look. "Would you like to tell me what that was all about?"

"I didn't know I was going to freak out like that," was all Alec could come up with. "I'm _sorry_."

"Okay," Magnus said softly. "Okay." Slowly, he stretched across the space separating them and cradled Alec's cheek in his hand - Alec reached up and curled his fingers around Magnus's. "No hair-pulling. Point taken. I don't want to be making a trip to the battered women's shelter."

"That's not funny." It was downright absurd, really. Magnus Bane was known far and wide for being the prodigious High Warlock of Brooklyn. He could transform Alec into all manner of unsavory things with a mere click of his fingers. But… there had been a night, a week or so after they'd traipsed home from Idris, when Alec had sat up, watched Magnus sleep, and considered. In terms of physical strength and speed, Alec had a significant advantage over the warlock and they both were aware of that fact. If circumstances came down to it and the element of surprise was on his side, Alec was fairly certain he could overpower Magnus, stun him well enough to give himself a few seconds' head start, and make his escape. He'd found the thought reassuring, and after that it was easy for him to snuggle into Magnus's side and fall asleep.

"You're right, it's not," Magnus agreed contritely. He stood; since their hands were still clasped, Alec was forced to uncurl and stand up as well. There would be no returning to their previous activity right now. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm the one who punched you."

"I'm afraid it won't be fatal." Releasing Alec's hand, Magnus attempted to smooth his shirt, but gave up when he realized Alec had mindlessly wrinkled it into oblivion.

Alec sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. On the other side, Chairman Meow was whimpering. "I'm all right. You've just never _done_ that before and I panicked. It won't happen again." He raked his fingers through his hair and grimaced. "I think I'm going to take a shower."

He locked the door when he shut himself in the bathroom. It would deter Magnus for about a fourth of a second if he decided he really wanted to come in, but the sentiment was clear.

Standing beneath the hot spray of water, Alec lathered shampoo into his hair, twisting the dark locks thoughtfully. The best way to ensure that the evening's events never repeated themselves would be to simply cut them short. He'd done it before, usually with whatever knife he had closest at the time - Magnus might be the only person surprised by that turn of events, and he would gripe for a while and then get over it. Hack it short enough, and there wouldn't be enough left to grab properly… but Alec rather liked his hair the way it was now, just shy of _too _long, and Magnus liked it as well. _Damn_. He rinsed the shampoo out, bypassed Magnus's nauseatingly fruit-scented conditioner, and shut off the water.

"Have you any idea what happened to Chairman Meow's jingly ball?" Magnus asked when Alec stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam.

"None." Clad only in his boxers, Alec weaved around the cat, who was merrily chasing transparent, shimmery butterflies Magnus had magicked into existence, and sank onto the mattress between the warlock and the windows. He wrapped himself in the comforter as Magnus sprawled out next to him. "It's too early to sleep."

"People do tend to drift away in my embrace," Magnus responded.

It would've sounded like a non sequitur to the untrained ear, but Alec was getting used to tracing the convoluted paths Magnus's mind traveled. "Morpheus?"

The corner of Magnus's lips curled upwards. "Oh, you're getting good at this. _Morpheus, thou god of sleep, o'er my couch thy shadow spread, into slumber sweet and deep, let my weary soul be laid. Fold me close within thy arms, god of sleep! I_ -"

"Did you know I'm a brazen whore?" Alec asked, shutting his eyes.

Magnus huffed. "I wish you wouldn't interrupt while I'm declaiming."

"Put it in a book and I'll read it."

"I _do_ have it in a book, for that matter," Magnus said. His fingers found the inside of Alec's wrist. "I forget who wrote it. I'll dig it up if you want. But sometimes, Alexander, I think you use me for my library."

"That's not true," Alec protested. About three years ago, he'd wandered into the Institute library one morning and realized there were nothing left that he hadn't read, and after that he started buying his own reading material with his allowance. He got a proper salary now that he'd turned eighteen, but he still spent all his money on books. And Magnus had _tons_ of books Alec had never even heard of, and he wasn't stingy about letting Alec borrow them. He loved the warlock for other reasons, though. "I also use you for your body."

"Well, as long as you're honest about it. Although I'm not sure I should trust someone who says they're a brazen whore - which is news to me, by the way."

"According to Diana Ashdown," Alec said, "dating Downworlders makes one a brazen whore."

The mattress rustled as Magnus moved, fitting himself more comfortably against Alec's side. "She sounds like such a peach."

_Not the word I'd use_, Alec thought, though it occurred to him a second later that Magnus was being sarcastic. A lemon would've suited the woman better. She'd not said anything about Alec being gay, at least not within his earshot, but he assumed her opinion on _that_ wasn't favorable either - and he knew she had an opinion, they all did. He had been less than comfortable talking to other people to begin with, and it had just gotten more awkward now that he'd acquired a reputation as 'That Gay Shadowhunter'. It was lonely. He so often felt like he was the _only one_, as impossible as that was. The cool reception he generally got and the borderline ostracization didn't help. He was doing his best not to let it get to him - he damn well wasn't going to go away just because they didn't like who he was sleeping with.

And speaking of…. Alec opened his eyes and turned over to face Magnus, who was gazing upwards, arms folded behind his head. It seemed a bit unfair that he was still in his jeans while Alec wore only his boxers (though they might be even, as there was no guarantee Magnus was wearing underwear). He hooked one finger into a beltloop, diverting Magnus's attention from the ceiling. "Lose these."

"Oh, my." Magnus produced a fan out of nowhere and snapped it open, waving it in front of his face coquettishly. "You're very forward, sir, now I'm all aflutter. Seriously, haven't you ever heard of romance?"

"Boring," Alec pronounced.

"_Really_, Alec -" Tossing the fan aside, Magnus rolled himself right atop Alec, stretching along him like a sharp-elbowed blanket. "Let me learn you a thing, love," he said, and quickly kept talking before Alec could question the grammatical correctness of that statement, "why don't we find out if I can remove your boxers with my teeth?"

"I think we've already confirmed that you can," Alec said. "Twice, in fact."

Magnus flashed his teeth. "Third time's the charm."

Alec closed his eyes once again, paying little attention to Magnus as the warlock slithered down the length of his body. "I just want to stop thinking." He'd not meant to voice the thought aloud, and it momentarily halted Magnus's progress, but he continued anyway. "I can't shut my brain off - I'm afraid if I _try_ to stop thinking about all these things that bother me, I'll start thinking about Alanna and her mother and _Max_ -"

His words were overtaken by a shuddering gasp. Magnus glanced up, grinned, and wet his lips with his tongue. "Don't worry, I have a solution for that. Now shut up and let me blow you."

* * *

The poem Magnus recites (mostly) is 'To Morpheus' by E.G. Brown.

Well, I hope you were all pleased with this chapter! We're finally getting into the actual reason I wrote this fic... slowly. xD Next chapter should be posted around midweek, probably Tuesday or Wednesday.

Reviews, of course, are highly appreciated and get chapters up faster! ;)


	4. Chapter Three

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

Just a bit of a creepy nightmare in this one - nothing worse than the actual snippet this fic is based on.

******************Notes: **Yes, my preciouses, we finally begin to venture into the meat of the plot... slowly, but we're getting there.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

* * *

His teeth scraped across Alec's collarbone, leaving narrow white lines in their wake. The sensation was unexpected and Alec jerked, digging his fingers into the rumpled sheets, a faint keening sound bubbling up in his throat -

A hand slapped down over his mouth. "_Shut_ _up_. Shut up and don't scream. If you scream, I'll kill you."

Alec startled awake with a sharp gasp, eyes snapping open. The room was pitch black, he could see nothing at all, but there was a warm hand splayed across his navel - Alec slapped it away, frantically scrabbling at the blankets - he kicked them off and sat up and skittered backwards in one uncoordinated movement that came to an abrupt stop when he slammed into the window.

His entire body shook. _There shouldn't be a window there_, he thought.

_I'm in Magnus's room._

On the heels of that realization soared a dizzying rush of relief, so broad in its scope that his gasping breaths quickly settled into a steadier rhythm, and he slouched against the window with a faint sigh. Gradually, he became aware that he was _cold_. He drew the comforter around himself like a cloak.

Magnus had not been awakened by Alec's distress - the man could sleep through a building collapsing around him (he'd claimed that he had once, but Alec didn't believe him), and he lay curled on his side, one arm flung out carelessly. Even the cat, nestled between the pillows, was blissfully oblivious. Alec watched Chairman Meow's paws twitch like he was swatting at something. Church did the same thing while he slept, as had Alec's bitchy old tortoiseshell. What did cats dream of? Hunting mice? Having thumbs so they could operate the can opener? Maybe they had nightmares about the vacuum cleaner.

Alec folded his legs against his chest and twitched the comforter up over his head, closing himself inside like a turtle retreating into its shell. His leaping heart had calmed, breathing falling back to a regular pattern, but when he held his hands close to his face, his fingers were still trembling.

_It was only a nightmare_, he told himself, _nothing to worry about. It wasn't real._

Despite this self-reassurance, though, he felt uneasy, and he nearly leapt out of his skin when an engine roared to life outside. Alec poked his head out from the comforter cocoon again. Magnus had rolled over to lay on his back, an artfully draped sheet scarcely preserving his modesty. How he'd managed to pull that off while asleep, Alec had no idea. He thought about waking him - Magnus would happily provide comfort if Alec asked for it, but he was always very tactile, and right now the thought of Magnus touching him was making Alec's bare skin crawl. He shed the comforter and crept off the bed in search of his clothes. His boxers were crumpled up at the foot of the mattress, his jeans draped over the vanity bench, and when he couldn't find his shirt, he stole one of Magnus's and slipped out of the bedroom on silent feet. It was three minutes after five and Alec wasn't getting any more sleep.

In the kitchen, he flipped the light switch and squinted until his eyes adjusted. This room had nothing of the Institute kitchen's clinical, bleached-white utilitarianism - the counters were cluttered and the sink was littered with dishes no one had bothered washing yet and the little wooden table shoved beneath the windowsill had seen better days. Alec was particularly fond of this place. It was _cozy_, from the wind chimes in the window to the Scrabble tiles repurposed as fridge magnets, their board long since lost to what Magnus would only explain as 'a tragic mozzarella cheese accident'. Right now, the letters spelled _FIND A PLACE INSIDE WHERE THERE'S JOY AND THE JOY WILL BURN OUT THE PAIN. _The second _J_ was a different color. Magnus had been nicking tiles from someone else's set again. Chairman Meow seemed to have realized that there was someone lurking around the kitchen, because he strolled in, gave his empty dish a significant look, and sprawled out on Alec's feet. Alec obligingly fed him before sitting down at the table and resting his head in his hands.

The last time he'd had that nightmare was two years ago, or thereabouts, he thought, tangling his fingers into his unkempt hair. He had finally _stopped_ waking up in a panic - or worse, waking up screaming - all the time, and now…. _It's _just_ a nightmare. You had a difficult day, that's all. It wasn't real, it doesn't mean anything_. And yet there were dozens of other nightmares in his treasure chest of dreams that he'd take over this one. Even Max's death would be preferable, as horrible as that sounded. Alec sighed, sat up again, let his head tip over the back of the chair. Behind him, a bundle of old papers that Magnus had cleaned out of the junk drawer was secured to the wall with one of Alec's arrows. The topmost one was a faded but still glossy red-and-black advertisement for someplace called _**The Holy Cross**_. Alec had never heard of it - of course, he'd not gotten out much before he began dating Magnus.

Unbidden, a thought came to mind: _Why am I even _having_ that nightmare again?_

_Just stop dwelling on it_, he firmly instructed himself, and then he got up to find something to read.

It was eight-forty-five when Magnus emerged from the bedroom, blinking and yawning and rubbing his eyes. Mentally comparing him to some pale, amphibious creature creeping out from beneath a rock for the first time, Alec said, "I made pancakes. They're in the microwave."

"Yaaaay," Magnus mumbled. He poked at the microwave until pancakes came out, patted Alec's head, and dropped into the chair on the other side of the table. It always took him a little while to wake up in the mornings. Alec was half-hoping he'd stay groggy for a while, just so he wouldn't bring up that whole 'Alec punching him' thing again. He'd seemed willing enough to let it go, but he had lulled Alec into a false sense of security before.

Magnus revived fully about halfway through his first pancake, and he tilted his head to read the title of Alec's book aloud. "_Les Miserables_?" he said, with what Alec assumed was the proper pronunciation. Magnus was fluent, or near enough, in French – Alec asked Magnus once how he'd learnt it, and Magnus murmured something about a woman named Camille and refused to elaborate. Alec had only a rudimentary knowledge of French, but he could tell someone to go fuck an elk in Chthonian, and he knew which language he found more useful.

"I've heard it ends badly for everyone involved."

"That's one way of putting it." Magnus stabbed a piece of pancake with his fork, but before he could actually put it in his mouth, his cell phone went off. He glanced at the display and answered with, "Bane," which told Alec it was probably a High Warlock thing. "No, I'm not busy. Yes… yes, of course, but you'll have to wait for me to finish breakfast first." He plucked a pen from the jelly jar on the windowsill and scribbled something on a scrap of pink paper. "All right, I'll see you soon."

"Work?" Alec asked, turning the page.

Magnus sighed and dropped his phone on the table. "I was really hoping I could get a break after yesterday. I had to turn a woman into a horse."

Alec looked up at that - he knew Magnus was called out to return people to their original forms all the time, after they'd gotten into shenanigans and found themselves as rodents or chickens or cats, but this was a new one. "You turned her _into_ a horse?"

"I did," Magnus said, swiping the last bite of pancake around the plate to mop up any remaining syrup. "She's a novelist of some kind, and she's writing something from the perspective of a horse, apparently, and she _really_ wanted me to transform her into a horse so she could get some first-hand knowledge." He shrugged. "At least, that's the explanation she gave. I don't get paid to judge."

"Is she _still_ a horse?"

"No, I turned her back after an hour."

Shaking his head, Alec returned his attention to his book. Magnus banished the dishes to the sink and stood up, silk pajama pants hanging off his lean hips. "I'm going to go home for a while," Alec said before Magnus left the room. "I should find out if the Silent Brothers have learned anything yet."

"All right. I've no idea when I'll be back, anyway. Here, up -" Magnus slid the book from Alec's hands, laying it flat on the table and coaxing Alec to his feet. "I'll call you when I'm finished," he said, swept Alec's hair from his eyes, and kissed him. His mouth was slightly sticky and tasted like maple syrup. Resisting a weird urge to laugh, Alec curled his hands around Magnus's sides, the edge of the table digging into his spine, Magnus's fingers hooking into his pockets - and the warlock stilled suddenly, lips closing. Alec leaned back to ask what was wrong, and Magnus pulled his hand from Alec's jeans, the little silver charm bracelet in his palm. "Do I _want_ to know?"

"It's Alanna's." It looked very small in Magnus's hand. One of the charms, a little dog, sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the window. Alec took the bracelet back and looped it around his fingers. "I tried to use that rune you taught Jace to track her with it. It didn't work. I don't know if I did it wrong, or…."

Magnus's brow furrowed. "Show me," he said, and so Alec picked his stele out of his other pocket and drew the rune on his skin. "Yes, that's right. Nothing happened? You didn't get any images at all?"

"Nothing," Alec confirmed. "Her mom said it was her favorite, too."

Sighing softly, Magnus stroked his knuckles along the line of Alec's jaw. "Then she was most likely already dead by then," he said gently. "Tracking spells only work on the living, I'm afraid."

Alec closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I thought that might be the case." At least now he knew he hadn't remembered the rune incorrectly and damned Alanna with his incompetence. Magnus tucked Alec's hair behind his ear, looking sympathetic. "Okay," Alec finally said, "I'm going to go. I need to talk to my father, and I should give this to him so he can return it to her parents." He pushed the bracelet into his pocket once again.

He was sidetracked on his way out by Chairman Meow, who had seated himself in front of the door and mewed at Alec as he approached. Since the cat was not actually supposed to leave the apartment, Alec picked him up, relocated him to the couch, and scratched his fluffy ears for five solid minutes until Chairman Meow removed his claws from where they were buried deep in Alec's sleeve. "You are the most obnoxious cat I've ever met," Alec said, inspecting the pulls in his jacket.

"I hear you verbally abusing my cat down there!" Magnus yelled from the bedroom.

"Your owner's even worse," Alec added, and left before Magnus could come up with a response.

The sky was iron-grey, the wind icy and biting and so harsh that it whipped Alec's hair across his face as he stepped out of Magnus's building. Early-November cold snaps were never pleasant. Flipping up the collar of his jacket, Alec set off towards the subway station. He'd made this trek so often that it was routine by now, so Alec could allow his mind to wander down familiar paths as he descended the stairs, swiped his MetroCard, and found a seat.

He didn't pay any particular attention to the person who sat down next to him until he was about to transfer to another line - he happened to glance to his left for an instant, and then did a double take. He'd seen selkies before, but never on the _subway_. There was a faint shimmer in the air around her that gave away her glamour. Mundanes would just pass her off as an ordinary girl, but Alec could see the seaweed threaded through her long, damp hair, the shells braided into bracelets around her wrists, and that her clothing was made of sealskin. She noticed him looking at her; a smile touching her lips, she turned her head and locked him in place with a dark, liquid gaze. "Hello."

"…Hi," Alec said. Then he forced himself to look away. Selkies only came on land to attract prey, and he had no desire to be dragged into the sea and drowned - no, wait, _kelpies_ were the ones who drowned people, selkies usually made them fall in love. He didn't really want to do that, either.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her frown, as if wondering why he wasn't enraptured by her beauty. "It's not raining again today," she murmured wistfully, twirling a lock of hair around her slim finger. "Too bad. I love the rain."

Alec had no idea what to say to that. He was spared having to respond by the train pulling into the station, giving him an excuse to vacate his seat. "Bye," he said, just to be polite.

She smiled again. "Goodbye, Shadowhunter."

Alec shook his head as he disembarked and switched to the line that would take him into Manhattan. New York City. Love it or hate it, you're going to get hit on in the subway no matter what.

He made it back home without further incident, unless he counted opening the gate to the Institute and nearly being mowed down by Isabelle, who was simultaneously running, applying eyeliner, and babbling something about being late for a brunch date. Alec, who couldn't read and walk at the same time without stumbling over things, was impressed. He shut the gate behind her and headed inside.

The Institute was quiet as a graveyard when Alec stepped out of the elevator. Jace had only been gone for about two days and his absence was already acutely felt - there was no one banging around the training room at weird hours or conversing with Church or playing the piano in the dead of night. Alec didn't begrudge him his chance to get away for a while and spend some time with his hard-won girlfriend, but it was kind of lonely without him. Leaving his jacket on the hook, he made his way down the empty hallway, and again found his father in the library. Seeing Robert there behind the desk was strange and awkward, the way a penguin would seem were it placed among pandas. Months had passed and Alec still expected Hodge. "Dad," he said, stopping in front of the desk.

Robert, who appeared to be absorbed in the enormous book set before him, only said, "Hm?"

Thinking it was _so_ uncomfortable to interrupt someone while they were reading, Alec asked, "Did the Silent Brothers find out anything about Alanna?" They had only retrieved her body last night, yes, but Alec was fairly certain that the Silent Brothers did not actually sleep.

His father sighed and pushed the book out of the way, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Nothing we couldn't have worked out for ourselves, unfortunately," he said. "They haven't found any evidence that could tell us who - or what - killed her." He paused, brow furrowing, and asked, "What does your shirt say?"

Bewildered, Alec glanced down at it before recalling that he'd borrowed one of Magnus's. It was one of his less eye-bleeding shirts, heather gray with something written across the front in German. "Oh. I have no idea." Which wasn't a good thing, actually - for all he knew, it said something hideously offensive, and he'd been walking around the city in this shirt. That was the quickest way to a grisly death in a filthy alleyway behind a bar. "Anyway, I thought of something on my way over," he said, leaning on the arm of the chair by the desk. "I told Magnus about the tracking rune I used yesterday -" he pretended not to notice his father's almost imperceptible wince at the warlock's name - "and he said that it didn't work because she was probably already dead by that point. I tried it… a little after four o'clock, the first time. When did it stop raining?"

Robert thought for a moment and said, "Around three, I believe."

"Alanna wasn't -" Alec had only gotten a glimpse of Alanna's body, but even reviewing that brief mental image was enough to make him cringe and wrap his arms around his torso like he was cold. "She hadn't been rained on," he continued quietly. "None of the blood was washed off."

Robert was nodding now, following his son's train of thought. "You think she died between the rain stopping at three and you trying to track her at four."

Alec shrugged. "It makes sense."

"You're right, it does," Robert agreed, which was high praise from him. He settled his chin on his hand and frowned. "I don't know if that helps us at all, but it's good to know. I -"

A floorboard creaked behind them. Alec turned, assuming his mother was up again, but it wasn't Maryse who stood there this time. In fact, Alec had never seen the boy in the doorway before in his life. And he hardly had time to wonder who he was, either - their eyes met, the boy turned _white_, sucked in a breath, and was gone in an instant.

Alec blinked at the empty hallway a few times. "Um." Then he looked back to his father and said, "Who was _that_?"

Robert's face tightened. "Ask your mother. She's the one allowing him to stay - I didn't even know about it until he showed up a few hours ago."

_Okay, not going to ask._ Alec knew better than to get involved in his parents' passive-aggressive fights. He was a little surprised by the sudden houseguest - they'd not had many since he was a child. Alec had never liked it when they had visitors back then. He'd always been too shy to be comfortable around them. He had some truly dreadful memories of Adrienne Willowmere and her _nine_ ill-behaved children, particularly the one boy his age, who had a glimmering future as a criminal. But perhaps Maryse no longer believed she always needed to invite other Shadowhunters to stay so she felt like they had a real Institute and not just some cold, impersonal place of exile. Brushing the thought aside, he said, "We know nothing about what happened to Alanna, then?"

"Nothing," Robert confirmed. He pulled his book towards him again. Taking the dismissal for what it was, Alec started to leave, but he was halted by Robert quietly adding, "She was alive when she was tortured."

Alec hadn't needed to hear that particular detail. Stomach turning, he quickly let himself out of the library. The corridor was again free of any mysterious boys, so he closed himself in his bedroom, sat on his bed, and took out his phone to text Isabelle. **Do you have any idea who the guy staying with us is?**

He got three replies in under a minute.

**I talked to him for a few minutes earlier. His name's Benjamin. He's cute. Little weird.**

**Lot weird.**

**REALLY cute, though.**

Well, Alec thought, putting his phone aside and picking up the copy of _Les Miserables_ Magnus had let him borrow, he hadn't expected much else from Isabelle, anyway.

* * *

OCs pop in and out of this thing like it's a bloody jack-in-the-box, but I promise this will 100% remain a Malec fic. If you're not fond of Canon/OC romances, there's nothing to be concerned about here, I won't be springing one on you.

As for chapter four... Thursday, perhaps? You know what to do. :D


	5. Chapter Four

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

******************Notes:** And we mosey on through the maze... I did warn you that this thing has way more plot than originally intended. You'll be properly introduced to Benjamin in this one, for those of you who had questions. (Again, there's no romance besides the Malec, just so it's clear.)

* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

That night found Alec jerking out of a deep sleep so violently that he cracked his head against the table beside the bed. Swearing, eyes watering from pain, he flung away the blankets tangled around his legs, grabbed his witchlight off the nightstand, and sat upright. When he closed his fingers around the stone, its rays of light flashed around the room. Desk. Bookshelf. Wardrobe. Window. No one besides him.

The witchlight fell from his fingers, rolled to the floor, and winked out as he buckled against the headboard. "It's all right," he said out loud, just to break the silence before it swallowed him, "there's nobody else here. It's all right." Letting his head sink down onto his knees, he added, "Get a _grip_."

The glowing numbers on his watch told him it was two-eleven a.m.. And here he was, huddled on his bed and shivering like a terrified kid because of a stupid nightmare. He felt so _pathetic_ that he harshly ruffled his fingers through his hair and lifted his head again, forcing himself to peer into the empty space at the foot of his bed, confirming that there was nothing there. _There never was_, he reminded himself. _No matter what you dream, that doesn't make it real._

…_I can still _hear_ him -_

Everything on the nightstand leapt about two inches into the air when Alec slammed his knuckles down onto its surface. The bright burst of pain scattered the fog in his mind, sent the skeletons scurrying away beneath beds and into closets where they belonged. Rattled, Alec swung himself off the mattress, yanked his sweat-soaked shirt over his head, flung it in the general direction of the laundry basket, and headed into his bathroom to take a shower. The floor tiles were like slabs of ice beneath his bare feet. He kicked off his boxers, cranked the water as hot as it could go, and stepped in.

It wasn't the first time the warm, soothing spray failed to repair his frayed nerves, but he was still disappointed. Since he didn't actually _need_ a shower, Alec just slid down to sit on the slippery floor, letting the water drum against his shoulders and the back of his neck. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to curl up like a hedgehog and rock back and forth and wail _why is this happening to me?_

He didn't do any of those things. Instead, he combed the tangles out of his sodden hair with his fingers and muttered, "Get a grip," again. If he was going to fall to pieces over a silly little nightmare, then he had no business being a Shadowhunter. It _wasn't even real_. He was alone in his room, he had been alone in his room, he had _always_ been alone in his room. When he was younger, though, the nightmares were occasionally so bad that he'd have to sleep elsewhere if he had any hope of getting some rest - the library, the living room, even the floor of his little brother's bedroom once in a while. He'd insisted that Max had been having bad dreams, and Max, who'd been about five or six at the time, had believed him.

When the water ran cold, Alec reached up and shut it off. He only stayed where he was for another minute afterwards before deciding it was really depressing to sit on the bottom of the tub, wet, naked, and freezing, and got out. He dried off and dressed quickly, switched on the little lamp next to his bed, and then his bedroom looked much less ghostly. His cell phone was still on the nightstand where he'd left it. Magnus had not gotten home until nearly midnight, and by then they'd both agreed that he would be out cold and unlikely to be revived when Alec finally got there, so Alec stayed home and Magnus went to his room to die. Apparently his job had gone poorly, and he was _wiped out_. Alec gnawed on his lower lip, turning the battered old phone over and over in his hands, and punched in the number despite his misgivings.

His worries turned out to be for naught - Magnus sounded groggy but warm when he said (or yawned, rather), "Hello, darling."

"Hey," Alec said. He surveyed his disarrayed bed, decided he didn't feel like doing anything about it right now, and crawled in, burrowing beneath whichever blanket was most convenient.

"Are you dead, dying, or grievously injured?"

"No, no, and no. I just wanted…." He made a vague gesture, forgetting Magnus couldn't see it. "I don't know. Nightmare."

Magnus made a sympathetic noise. "Another one?"

Alec started to respond, then stopped mid-vowel and replayed what Magnus had just said. "What?"

"I woke when you got up yesterday morning," Magnus said, sounding like he was trying not to yawn again. "Five a.m. seemed a little early, so I assumed… was I wrong?"

"No," Alec admitted. He turned around on the mattress and lay back, bracing his feet against the top of the headboard. Magnus occasionally acted like he had bubblegum for brains, but he had proved over and over that he didn't actually sleep his way to his position, popular misconceptions aside. Chairman Meow couldn't hack up a hairball in the most remote corner of Brooklyn without Magnus knowing about it. "Don't worry, though, it's not a big deal."

"If you say so. Well, if you'd like, I could tell you the story of the time I pissed off an entire werewolf pack, placated them by telling them I was a vampire hunter, and pissed off the entire coven standing behind me - it's not nearly as exciting as it sounds, it'll put you right to sleep…" Magnus trailed off into a yawn.

"Save it for another time, I'll be fine. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. _You_ should probably go back to bed before you fall asleep and run up your phone bill."

"_Phone bill_," Magnus snorted, like Alec had said something thoroughly ridiculous. "I suppose you're right. I'll be off, then. Love you."

"Love you too. Night."

"Good night," Magnus sang in a sleep-soaked voice, then hung up. Alec closed his phone and put it aside, an affectionate smile finding its way to his lips. Magnus could make him feel better even when he was drunk with exhaustion.

He did not sleep, however. He whittled away at the next four hours by finishing _Les Miserables_, getting really annoyed when his favorite character died (although he supposed it was statistically inevitable), and doodling aimlessly in his journal until his pen ran out of ink. The big problem with not sleeping was the complete lack of things to _do_. Eventually, Alec gave up on pretending not to be hopelessly bored and wandered out into the hall, trying to decide whether or not he was hungry enough for breakfast. Since Maryse was still too sick to cook and nobody wanted Isabelle within ten feet of the kitchen, there hadn't been a proper dinner last night, and Alec had just eaten an orange around nine o'clock and called that a meal.

Once again, he ended up outside the library. It was where he spent most of his time while he was at home. In the early morning hours, it was possibly the most beautiful place in the Institute - the high, soaring windows immersed the room in sunlight, which sparkled off the chips of glass studding the floor and sent rainbows spinning across the towers of books. Thinking Magnus would like that little detail, Alec gently closed the door behind him. There was no one seated at the desk now, no one perched in the squashy chairs in front of the cold fireplace, but he'd only taken a few steps into the room when he realized he wasn't alone.

Alec hadn't seen the boy on his way in, because - what had Isabelle called him? Benjamin? - stood behind the door, stretching up for a book just out of reach. He glanced over his shoulder at the same time Alec turned around. Once again, their eyes met, and once again he blanched, something Alec thought might've been horror flashing over his face - and then the book he'd been taking down slipped from his fingers and fell.

He caught it in his other hand without even looking. "Oh," he said, and he sounded almost shaken. "Hello."

"Hi…" Alec said slowly, unnerved by the laser stare. This guy had the sort of eyes that could bore holes in steel. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

As if hearing Alec speak had broken some kind of spell, Benjamin shook his head once, hard, and turned to wedge the book back onto the shelf. "It's all right, I didn't realize anyone else would be here this early - is it okay for me to be in here? I forgot to ask -"

"No, it's fine." Sometimes Alec forgot, as he suspected they all did, that this place was not actually theirs. It was an Institute, and thus belonged to the Clave and Shadowhunters as a whole. He had grown up here - climbing the ropes in the training room, crowding into the kitchen with his siblings and laughing at the face Max pulled the time he'd accidentally taken a gulp of Jace's coffee instead of his own hot chocolate, sitting in the library and drawing birds on his paper while Jace and Isabelle passed a series of increasingly vitriolic notes back and forth, not a one of them paying attention to Hodge's lecture at all - but in the end, the Lightwoods had no more claim to it than anyone else.

Now that nobody was running away immediately after making eye contact, Alec was provided with an opportunity to more thoroughly study their mysterious guest. Benjamin appeared to be about the same age as Alec himself, maybe a bit older, if not quite as tall. He had curling brown hair and grey eyes and there was something almost familiar about the curve of his jaw and cheekbones. He was not _extraordinary_, not like Magnus, but he was undeniably attractive. Isabelle had been right. That was unusual, they didn't normally agree on such things - she still maintained that Magnus was the sort of guy she'd go clubbing with, but would never, ever bring home to her parents, not even to shock and horrify them.

"I'm not going to steal anything, in case that's why you're watching me."

Caught staring, Alec flushed and quickly averted his gaze. Things like that were probably the reason people had so little trouble pinpointing him as gay. There had to be _something_, considering that everyone seemed to have known well before he was ready to tell them.

"I was just looking around," Benjamin continued, wandering along the ring of shelves with his face tilted up towards the distant ceiling. "Trying to imagine what it would be like to live sixteen years of my life in here, I suppose."

Alec frowned. _What?_ He was beginning to wonder if Benjamin was a little mad when he caught sight of the carved wooden desk out of the corner of his eye and it clicked. "You're talking about Hodge Starkweather," he said, and Benjamin nodded. "Did you know him?"

"No, not really." Benjamin stopped in front of the fireplace, ran his fingers along the edge of the mantle. "You probably knew him significantly better than I did, I expect, but he was my brother."

"I… didn't know Hodge _had_ any brothers." The moment the words were out, Alec thought that it had been a stupid thing to say - he'd come to find there was a lot he'd never known about Hodge, the least of which was if he had had any siblings. All Hodge would ever say about his family was that he and his parents had not gotten along well and his mother passed away when he was eleven… which brought up an interesting question, considering how young Benjamin looked.

"Only the one, and we're technically half-brothers. We had different mothers," Benjamin said, as if he'd been listening in on Alec's thoughts. He had a strange, almost detached way of speaking that made him sound like he wasn't really paying attention to anything he was saying. "By the time I was old enough to care, he was already living here. I was just wondering where he'd spent all those years."

"Is that why you're here?" Alec asked, realizing that was a rude question only after he'd already voiced it - but he _was_ curious.

Benjamin pursed his lips. "Not exactly, although I guess it did lead me here. I just wanted to… get away, for a while, and I knew where he'd been living, so I wrote your mother and she was kind enough to let me stay."

That made sense, although he'd picked a bad time for it, considering they were all preoccupied with Alanna's death - Alec caught that thought before it could evaporate and examined it inch by inch. He'd been told frequently that he was a tad paranoid, but wasn't it a _little_ strange that Alanna had been murdered by an unknown perpetrator, and the very next morning Benjamin turned up? He gave the other boy a hard look, but there was nothing about him that screamed _violent lunatic here!_ Benjamin didn't see Alec watching him this time - aside from that first moment, he appeared to be doing his absolute best to not so much as glance in Alec's direction. Perhaps he was shy, or, like Alec, had trouble navigating the perilous, unwritten rules of eye contact, but something told Alec it was more than that. Still, with nothing to go on, he stowed away his suspicions and was thinking about going to find some breakfast when something abruptly occurred to him. "How did you know she's my mother?"

"I spoke with Isabelle yesterday. She was… talkative," Benjamin said, though he sounded like he had a different word in mind. Alec wondered if she'd hit on him. "She told me who you are, too - Alec, right? She said Jace was blond, and not here, besides. My name's Benjamin, by the way."

"I know, Izzy told me." The conversation tapered off after that - Benjamin was still inspecting every detail of the library, and Alec, preoccupied with his growling stomach, figured nothing else was going to be said and headed for the doors. "Well, it was nice talking to you."

"Oh, yes," Benjamin said vaguely, like he'd already forgotten Alec was in the room. Alec left him to it. As he exited the library, however, he could feel Benjamin's eyes on his back.

He journeyed towards the kitchen, reflecting on their conversation - it had been sort of awkward, reminding Alec why he didn't talk to people much. And yet, he realized, while he was hunting through the fridge in search of milk that hadn't expired during the Dark Ages, in five minutes he'd gotten as much personal information from this boy he barely knew as he had from his boyfriend in two months.

Still, when Magnus called around ten o'clock, Alec picked up on the first ring. "Are you awake now?"

"Marginally," Magnus said. "I thought I'd call and see if you'd gotten any sleep."

"Sure, I did."

"Liar."

"Yeah." Alec slid an arrow into his quiver. He'd been fitting heads to shafts for three-quarters of an hour - it was not an exciting job, but it needed to be done, and after a while it became a rhythmic, almost soothing activity. "So how did that story about the vampires and werewolves you mentioned last night end?"

"Oh, I told the head of the coven that the alpha of the pack had insulted her, they turned on each other, and I ran like a squirrel. I did say it was a boring story. Are you coming over?"

"Once I'm finished here." It wouldn't do to face a demon and find out he had the wrong arrows for the job. "I'll see you in a bit."

Thirty minutes and forty-one arrows later, Alec put on his jacket and boots and headed out of the Institute, pausing only to say hello to a cloud of perfume (within which was his sister, somewhere). He made his way to Brooklyn without having any interesting encounters on the subway, unless he counted the man who'd swung his briefcase around wildly and nearly splattered Alec's brains all over the car. Maybe he really, really didn't like tattoos, thought Alec, who had Marks on his throat and hands that were perfectly visible to mundanes, or he was just provoked into a violent rage by guys with dark hair. Or he was drunk. Seemed a bit early in the day, though. Whichever it was, Alec had survived the encounter, and he took the stairs two at a time and let himself into Magnus's apartment.

"You'd better not be drunk," Alec said when he poked his head into the study.

Magnus looked up at him, brows knit. "Why would I be drunk? It's only…" He glanced about for a moment, snapped his fingers, and peered at the phone that appeared in his palm. "Eleven-thirteen in the morning."

"Just checking." The precarious stacks of books from the other day were gone, Alec noticed, but the table still sported its usual clutter, sans the hypnotic demon scroll. Whatever Magnus was working on today seemed to involve quite a lot of sepia-colored parchment. Alec picked up the page nearest to him and found it light and a bit rough beneath his fingers, like the paper bags from the grocery store. This one was blank except for an unrecognizable sketch in the corner, but many of the other pages scattered across the desk were covered in white-inked writing - Magnus's handwriting, he saw as he leaned closer, which was pretty when he wasn't trying and almost calligraphic when he was. "What are you doing?"

"Making a book," Magnus murmured, leaning so far down that his nose almost brushed the parchment.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

There was no arguing with that. Alec had discovered that Magnus went through brief, unpredictable phases where he'd become immersed in some strange new hobby, and there was no deterring him from it. It had been knitting, for a while, and then Alec found a needle embedded six inches into the living room wall and neither of them brought it up again. Magnus tended to be _really bad_ at these things he carelessly flung himself into - whether he was bad because he never stuck with them, or if he just enjoyed being terrible at something, Alec had no idea. If it kept Magnus away from that god-awful ukulele of his, he was all for it. "All right," Alec said. He scrutinized the sketch on the page he was holding. "What is this supposed to be?"

"It's a wolfsbane plant."

"It looks like a foot."

"It's a _wolfsbane plant_," Magnus repeated insistently.

"It still looks like a foot."

"A _green_ foot." Snatching the page from Alec's hands, Magnus set it aside and returned to his writing. Alec simply picked up the rest of the stack and shuffled through it. Most of these drawings were similarly unrecognizable. He didn't want to say that Magnus had no artistic talent, but… Magnus had _no_ artistic talent.

"Do you want some help?" he finally said, taking a seat on the stool that usually held the overflow from the desk. "I mean, if you'd like these to look professional, you should ask Clary when she gets home, but I could probably make these look less…."

"Like feet?" Magnus suggested. He put his pen down and propped his chin on his hand, picking up the wolfsbane sketch, looking over it with a critical eye.

Alec fanned the drawings out like a hand of cards and raised his eyebrows. "You've got the whole spectrum of body parts here, to be honest."

Magnus's lips quirked upwards. "All right, then, if you're serious about this…." He slid a large tin of colored pencils across the table. They were _good_ colored pencils, too, the upscale-art-store kind that came individually in ten billion different hues. "I'm not paying you a salary, but if you start feeling overworked, let me know and I'll blow you."

"I don't think that's a good business practice," Alec said mildly. It had taken him a while to master the art of not blushing like an idiot every time Magnus made a sexual remark, but he'd finally gotten the hang of it.

"It'll be fun for both of us, though," Magnus told him, grinning. He looked like a shark. "You can start with the wolfsbane plant, if you want - I'll make you a list of what I need. Help yourself to reference books."

Nodding, Alec reached over and picked up a blank piece of parchment. "What kind of book is this supposed to _be_, exactly?"

"I have no idea. I suppose I'll figure it out as I go along."

That sounded about right for Magnus, Alec thought. He sifted through the tin, plucked out a deep green pencil, and got to work.

* * *

Enjoy these chapters that end on light notes while you can. :D

Chapter five ought to pop up sometime this weekend. Please review, and thank you so much to all the people who already have!


	6. Chapter Five

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**********************Notes:** Not much traffic on the last chapter... are you all getting bored already? I know it takes a while to really get interesting, but if I was a _good_ writer, I wouldn't still be writing free fanfiction. :b

Short chapter this time. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

"All right, fine. We'll do the flowers-and-chocolates routine, sans chocolate. I don't want you to get sick. And then you'll forgive me."

Alec frowned at his rumpled reflection in the mirror, spit toothpaste foam into the sink, and said, "Are you talking to me?"

"No," Magnus said. The door to the bathroom was halfway open and if Alec leaned back, he could see Magnus's bare feet dangling off the mattress. "I am conversing with my cat - although, incidentally, all that could go for you too if necessary. But you'd probably appreciate the flowers, this one's just going to eat them. What did I do that you need to forgive me for?"

"Nothing, that's why I was confused." Alec turned off the tap and the lights and padded back into the bedroom. Magnus was stretched across the width of the bed with his chin resting on his arms, Chairman Meow curled up in front of his face. He'd accidentally trodden on the cat's tail while he and Alec were a bit too involved to watch where they were going. Chairman Meow had been sulking ever since - according to Magnus, at least, since Alec thought he was acting exactly as annoying as he always did. "You know," he said, "Olivia would've just taken off a few of your toes and been done with it."

"Your cat's been dead for two years and she still scares the hell out of me," Magnus informed him. He turned back to his cat and made kissy noises. Chairman Meow hissed. Alec grinned, pulled a t-shirt over his head, and went to get some water.

He was stalling. It was like being seven years old all over again, except rather than doing everything he could think of to keep his mother from turning out the lights, he was simply avoiding the nightmares. Leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a glass of water he had no intention of drinking, Alec thumped his head against the wooden cabinets and closed his eyes. It had been four days since the first nightmare. Last night he'd been asleep for less than an hour before he woke up shouting. Luckily, Isabelle's room was too far away for her to hear, and Jace's was empty at the moment, so no one was disturbed but him. The lack of sleep was beginning to screw with him - he kept forgetting what he was doing and he'd had a constant, dull headache all day, and now the thought of falling asleep lit a tiny flare of panic in his chest.

_I'm losing it_, he thought. He dumped out the water and headed back towards the bedroom, took a left, and went into the den instead. That blindingly pink couch Magnus was so fond of was calling to him. Alec dropped down on it, sank into the squishy cushions - it was surprisingly comfortable, despite its color, and functioned as a spare bed for any overnight guests who weren't in _Magnus's_ bed - and put his head in his hands.

"I can't do this again," he murmured, digging his fingers into his scalp. "I just _can't_…."

"Can't do what again?"

Alec jumped, head jerking up to see Magnus standing in the doorway and running his hands through his hair. Silently cursing his habit of talking to himself out loud, Alec said, "Nothing, I'm fine. Never mind. I'll be there in a minute."

Magnus rolled his eyes so hard it _had_ to hurt. "Since I'm tired, I'll pretend you didn't just unconvincingly insist that you were fine and move right on to the cuddling." He sat down next to Alec on the couch, pulled him into his arms, and rested his cheek on top of his head. "So are you going to tell me what's wrong," he murmured, "or shall I skip ahead again and commence with the prying?"

Sighing, Alec settled against him, leaning his head on Magnus's bare chest. Magnus was very warm, like he'd been snuggled beneath a pile of blankets for a while. "It's really not anything," he said. "Just a nightmare."

"You haven't been sleeping properly for days."

"It's _just a nightmare_," Alec said again. He would've gone to his grave repeating himself, but the desire to actually sleep uninterrupted for a few hours was overwhelming. He didn't function well when he was sleep-deprived. "I used to have it a lot when I was younger," he said quietly. "It got so bad at one point that I didn't sleep at all for six days, almost stabbed Jace with a butterfly knife when he came up behind me, and… kind of had a nervous break in front of Hodge." In hindsight, that incident was _hilarious_, because Alec had never yelled at anyone like that before in his entire life and Hodge looked like Valentine had just strolled into the library and performed an interpretive dance wearing only that really disturbing sequined purple leotard of Magnus's. "It's just - it was horrible. I can't go back to sleeping for thirty minutes two or three times a day. I can't do it again."

"All right," Magnus said. He ran his hand down the length of Alec's spine, then back up again. "All right."

"And," Alec added before Magnus could get it into his head to ask, "I don't want to talk about it."

Magnus shrugged. "Well, if you change your mind, I'm here. Listen, if you want to sleep without having any dreams, I can do that."

"Can you?" Alec sat up, wriggled out of Magnus's arms. As a kid, he'd resorted to stealing Hodge's tisanes from the cabinet in the infirmary. Not until the nightmares had begun coming less frequently did he realize that he'd never run out.

Holding up a finger, Magnus said, "Only this once, mind you. Use the spell too often and you'll develop a dependence. I've never been able to get around that particular side effect - the one where the target tended to wake up with antlers was worse, but I managed to fix that - there has to be _some_ way of changing the effect of the spell so you'll develop a resistance rather than an addiction -"

"Okay," Alec interrupted, wondering what the magical equivalent of technobabble was, "I'll do it."

Magnus kept rambling on as if Alec hadn't spoken, but he did pull Alec to his feet and tug him towards the bedroom. Alec tuned him out. When he reached the bed, he fell onto it with a fluffy _thump_ - the covers on Magnus's bed were ten inches deep. Chairman Meow gave him a sleepy, one-eyed look as Alec rolled himself into a comforter, burrito-style, and checked his cell phone for messages before shoving it beneath his pillow. He called occasionally storing things under his pillow a habit, Magnus called him a magpie.

"- and that was the _third_ time I made sweet love to a poisonous tree frog."

Knowing full well that Magnus was trying to see if he was paying attention, Alec said, "If that's the case, I don't think I want to sleep with you anymore."

Magnus grinned. "Now you know the reason we don't bareback," he said cheerfully.

"I thought the reason was that I don't know where you've been," Alec said, draping an arm over his eyes, "or I actually _do_ know some of the places you've been and that's why I'm cautious."

"Two months ago, you didn't even know what the word 'bareback' meant in any context that didn't involve horses, and when I told you, I thought you'd swoon from embarrassment," Magnus said wistfully. "Your face was so _red_. What happened to those days?"

Alec smiled faintly. "We had a _lot_ of sex."

"That we did," Magnus agreed. "Now, relax, and don't open your eyes, that'll undo the spell. Ready?"

"Sure." Magnus started mumbling in some unfamiliar, vaguely melodic language; feeling a bit silly, Alec lay as still as he could and tried not to think. With his arm pressed into his eyes, everything was very dark. After a minute or so, however, he began to notice the blackness fading into an odd shade of blue. "Um," he said, "should I be seeing blue?"

"Yes," Magnus said. A thin, squiggly line raced across the backs of Alec's eyelids, undulating like a sound wave. "That means it's working."

Being able to _see_ Magnus's voice was very bizarre. Once, when he was fifteen, Alec was stung by a spindly little demon that had been clinging to the underside of a bridge in Central Park. They'd had an antidote for its hallucinogenic toxin back at the Institute, but in the fifteen minutes it took for Jace and Isabelle to drag him home, he had the most spectacularly weird experience of his entire life. His sister told him later that he'd been convinced that the Institute would swallow him and initially refused to go inside in fear of never being able to escape. Something about this was distantly similar - the sound wave vanished when Magnus stopped speaking, only to be replaced by a row of stick figures that rocked back and forth in time with his heartbeat, then sunk away and were in turn replaced by a large white square. Alec focused on it, for lack of anything better to do, hoping he'd fall asleep soon.

Gradually, the square started to get smaller. As he watched it slowly shrink, he realized that the blue surrounding him was darkening to black, and had a sudden, horrible sensation of falling down a bottomless hole. _All right, no_, he thought wildly, _this is creepier than the nightmare_. Despite Magnus's warning, he opened his eyes.

The bedroom was flooded with sunlight.

Shrugging off the mountain of blankets burying him, Alec sat up, rubbing his eyes on the back of his hand. Magnus was long gone, by the looks of it, the covers on his side of the bed thrown back and the sheet cold. Alec pushed his hair out of his face and squinted out the window. The sky was cornflower blue, cloudless, and down on the sidewalk a pair of teenagers were chasing after a little brown puppy that raced ahead of them, trailing its leash. He fumbled his phone out from below the pillow to check the time.

"You didn't tell me that spell was going to make me sleep for _fourteen hours_," he said accusingly when he dragged himself into the kitchen.

Magnus didn't so much as glance up from the book he was paging through. "It _doesn't_ do that. If you slept for fourteen hours, it's because you desperately needed to."

He might have a point, Alec thought, sticking a few pieces of bread into the toaster. One solid night of sleep and he felt significantly more attached to Earth - his headache had vanished and his thoughts weren't constantly skewing off in unrelated directions, leaving him standing in the middle of a room and wondering how he had gotten there. "Well, thank you," he said, "although you might've warned me that I was going to hallucinate falling into a bottomless pit."

"Those are called dreams, love."

"You said I wouldn't dream." Alec pulled the other chair out, relocated Chairman Meow to the floor, and sat down with his plate of toast. The cat immediately leapt back up into his lap and made himself comfortable.

"I exaggerated a tad." Magnus closed the book and picked up another from the stack next to him. "With that spell, usually you _do_ dream for a few minutes, right after falling asleep and before you wake up, but you didn't have any nightmares, did you?"

"I didn't." Slathering strawberry jelly on his toast, Alec dug in - he was _starving_, as it was three in the afternoon and he hadn't had breakfast… actually, now that he thought about it, he didn't remember the last time he had eaten.

Magnus must've been thinking along the same lines, because he asked, "Did you have dinner last night?"

"No," Alec admitted, licking a stray blob of jelly off his finger, which Magnus watched with interest. "In all fairness, though, it wasn't my fault." He had meandered down towards the kitchen yesterday at around seven p.m., running into Benjamin, who was heading in the same direction. The two of them hadn't had any involved conversations since their first - though they came across each other from time to time, Alec wasn't home much and Benjamin generally kept to himself - but he was nice enough, so Alec didn't mind having him there. Almost automatically, he'd peeked into the kitchen before entering, seen the horror within, and promptly turned around.

"You're going to want to run away very fast," he said in an undertone, walking back the way he came. "Isabelle's in there."

Benjamin just shrugged. "That's a bad thing? She's not awful to look at, she won't put me off my appetite."

"Oh, yes, she will," Alec said grimly. "If she gets it into her head to make you some Mushroom Surprise, you're in trouble."

Considering this, Benjamin had nevertheless caught up to Alec as he fled. "Is it surprising?"

"Only if you don't expect food poisoning."

Magnus laughed when Alec related the tale. "So you didn't go back?"

"No," Alec said, sticking the last piece of crust into his mouth. "I was going to try again in a few hours, but…."

"You forgot."

"I forgot." He leaned back in his chair, scratching Chairman Meow behind the ears, and was rewarded with claws kneading into his stomach. "Which wouldn't matter if you weren't unduly concerned with my eating habits."

Giving up on the books entirely, Magnus snapped them away and rested his elbows on the table. "I am very fond of your lean musculature. I'd be heartbroken if you were skeletal. Anyway, listen - while you were peacefully slumbering this morning, I was skimming through a few books, and I happened to come across something interesting."

Alec raised his eyebrows and got up to wash his plate. "Interesting…?"

"A psychometric spell. Do you know what psychometry is?"

"I've heard the word," Alec said, "but no, I don't."

Magnus stood and came over to the sink, spinning a tarnished coin between his long fingers. "It's the practice of pulling memories from inanimate objects. It's… something of a lost art, I'm afraid. There used to be quite a few warlocks who specialized in psychometry, but as time marched on and the practice of taking apprentices dwindled, budding warlocks began teaching _themselves_ magic. Since psychometry was somewhat rare to begin with, most of their spells weren't properly recorded, and because they weren't taking apprentices, the knowledge wasn't being passed on. But, luckily for us, a few psychometric spells _were_ preserved. This one in particular allows the user to take an object and see the memory of the last time the owner was in contact with it, as long as the object was important to its owner. For example -" he flipped the coin in the air, "I've had this since I was four years old. Aside from my life, it's pretty much the only thing my mother ever gave me. If I handed it off to another warlock right now and they used that spell, they would be able to experience this moment through my eyes."

"That's… fascinating, but I don't really know where you're going with this."

Magnus flipped the coin again. Alec snatched it out of the air before it fell and turned it over - it was worn well past identifying, but it had been silver at one point. "I was thinking of your little Shadowhunter girl," Magnus said quietly, and Alec looked back up at him. "If you hadn't returned her bracelet…."

"I - I _didn't_," Alec realized. Magnus blinked. "I meant to give it to my father, but while I was on the subway, this selkie was flirting with me -"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, I wasn't interested. But she said something about the rain, and I started thinking about it, and from there I could figure out approximately what time Alanna was killed - I got so distracted that I completely forgot about it. It should still be in my jeans at home." Alec fumbled around behind him, turned off the faucet, and took his plate from the sink, mind racing. _Finally_, after days of nothing, some kind of lead. "If I find it - could you use that spell on it?"

"Would I have brought it up if I couldn't?" Magnus's gaze swept Alec from head to toe and he smirked. "You may want to get dressed, first - while _I_ don't mind, you might attract some unwanted attention if you go wandering around the city in just your shorts."

Alec rolled his eyes, shoved the damp plate into Magnus's hands, and dropped the coin onto it. "Give me two minutes." Then he grabbed Magnus by the front of his iridescent shirt and kissed him. "You are brilliant and I love you."

"Of _course_," Magnus said brightly. "Now go get your fine self dressed and we can go."

* * *

If y'all review, I _may_ just see fit to put up chapter six on Monday! :D Review-whoring aside, I really do love hearing your thoughts and I read every single comment you make.


	7. Chapter Six

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes:** Another shortish one this time. The lengths of these chapters fluctuate like the temperature on Long Island - yesterday, winter; today, seventy degrees.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

* * *

"You know," Alec said, unlocking the front doors of the Institute, "it's only just occurred to me that you could've gotten the bracelet from my pocket and we wouldn't have had to come all the way over here."

Magnus shrugged. "I _could_ have," he said, "but I've never tried the spell I'm about to use, and I'm not sure how much of my magic it'll require. Quite a bit, I expect, psychometry is complicated. And it's much easier for me to summon things when I know exactly where they are, which I don't, in this case."

"Oh." That answered Alec's other question - why it was necessary for Alec to not have given the bracelet back to Alanna's parents. He rattled the elevator gate open, beckoned Magnus inside, and punched the button. "Makes sense. I'm a little tired, still."

Sliding an arm around Alec's shoulders, Magnus pulled him closer and pressed his face into his hair. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I can't keep using that spell on you night after night. You'll start having trouble falling asleep without it, and soon enough you'll have a full-blown addiction. But… in a couple of days, if you're still having nightmares…"

Alec nodded and leaned his head against Magnus's shoulder. "Okay. Thanks."

Magnus squeezed him. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec caught their reflection in the mirrored walls, and it struck him just how _normal_ they looked - if one ignored the runes and Magnus's eyes and perhaps the fact that his jacket was studded with sparkling bits of glass in ten different colors, at least. They could've been any other couple just taking an elevator. Alec closed his eyes, for an instant, and he could pretend that there were no demons or monsters and Magnus wasn't immortal and they weren't trying to find out who'd murdered a helpless eleven-year-old girl -

His reverie broke when the elevator slammed to a stop, and he opened his eyes and stepped out. "It should be in my bedroom, still," he said, leading the way. "I haven't done laundry yet."

They reached Alec's room and Magnus closed the door behind them, leaning against it and looking around interestedly while Alec searched for his jeans. He'd only been in here a few times - usually Alec came to his apartment, instead, which had the benefit of being much more private. Alec, personally, did not understand his boyfriend's fascination. His bedroom was not a multi-hued disaster like Magnus's. It was small, oddly shaped due to its position in the corner of the building, and mostly uncluttered, with the exception of the books lined up on every available horizontal surface. The blankets on his bed were all blue and brown. The walls were the color of eggshells. It wasn't much, but it was his. "Here," Alec said, digging the jeans he was looking for out of the bottom drawer of his wardrobe.

"You wore them and then put them away without washing them first?"

"Not all of us have fifty pairs of jeans, and they were still clean." He turned around to see that Magnus had seated himself on the trunk at the foot of Alec's bed and was studying a worn loop of braided leather. Alec turned the left pocket of his jeans inside out and Alanna's bracelet fell into his hand. "Got it. Put that back where you found it."

"It's a cat collar, right?" Magnus asked, flicking at the little bell.

"Yeah, it was Olivia's." Alec sat down next to him as Magnus replaced the collar on the desk. "What do you want me to do?"

Magnus ran his fingers over the links of the bracelet, sending the charms clinking against each other. "Close your hand," he instructed. He cupped both of his hands around Alec's fist. "If this works properly, you should be able to experience whatever happened to Alanna right before she lost her bracelet - images, feelings, you might even catch a few of her thoughts. I'm not sure how long it'll last. Do tell me what it's like to be a girl, afterwards."

"Shut up," Alec muttered. He slowly closed his eyes - the prospect of finding out what happened to Alanna suddenly seemed a lot less exciting - and then he reopened them. "Magnus, I don't know if this is going to help us at all."

Magnus's thumb skated lightly over Alec's knuckles. "What do you mean?"

"Her mother thinks she lost this in the hotel when she was leaving. I'm pretty sure she didn't die until _hours _after that. This might not tell us anything."

"I think it's worth a shot," Magnus said, "but you don't _have_ to do it."

Alec sighed. "Of course I do." She was a little girl he'd barely known and she'd died horribly and in some twisted way he felt responsible for her. He shut his eyes again. "Go ahead."

It was nothing like what he'd imagined.

At first, there was only a wave of dizziness so strong that it made him queasy. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to ask Magnus if that was supposed to happen… and then, like a flower blooming, the scene opened up before him. He stood in the hotel lobby, half-hidden behind a pillar, watching the reception desk. Two women were working there, one attending to a large group of people toting suitcases and duffel bags, the other tapping her fingernails against the counter, idle. There was something crumpled in his hand - a piece of paper, perhaps? - but when he tried to move his head to look at it, he couldn't get his body to respond. He - _she_, he reminded himself, this was Alanna's memory, not his own - stood up on her toes, waiting. _He finally wrote back - _The receptionist, the one with gray hair that frizzed around her head like a cloud of cotton candy, smiled and bade the group to have a good day, and the other one disappeared into the back.

_Now!_

She darted across the gleaming white floor, unnoticed by the woman at the desk, and neatly slipped in with the cluster of people on their way towards the exit. They all wore lanyards around their necks and name tags. Tour group. Nobody would look twice at her now. _I want to see - _Gleeful, she squeezed the paper in her hand, a jolt of _excitementanticipationhappiness_ speeding up her heartbeat as she brushed past the gigantic fern next to the doors -

"Alec," Magnus said loudly.

It took Alec a few seconds to realize he'd been thrown out of the memory and was blinking at the map of the city stuck on the opposite wall. Shaking his head, he rubbed at his eyes with his free hand and looked at the bracelet. "That was…" _useless_, he almost said, but there was something niggling at the back of his mind. "Can you do it again?"

"You'll just see the same thing," Magnus cautioned.

"I know, I just want to make sure I didn't miss something," he said, and so Magnus shrugged and started the spell over.

The second playthrough didn't tell Alec anything he didn't already know, but it did confirm what he'd been thinking the first time around. This time he came out of it immediately, leapt to his feet and stuffed the bracelet back into his pocket. "I need to talk to my father," he said. He made it halfway to the door before turning around, grabbing Magnus by the wrist, and yanking him along so hard the warlock nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Your father isn't exactly fond of me," Magnus said, quickly regaining his equilibrium and keeping pace with Alec.

"I know. Come with me anyway."

Robert was on the phone and, once again, sitting at the desk in the library. Wondering if he and Maryse were going to have a turf war over it once she'd recovered, Alec stepped inside, Magnus on his heels, and waited. Benjamin was in the room as well, curled up in an armchair with a massive book spread open on his knees. He looked up when they came in, spotted Alec, winced, looked away - and then caught sight of Magnus, which was arguably worse. Alec was intimately familiar with the _am I on drugs or is this guy really dressed like that?_ expression on Benjamin's face. He still preferred it to the way his father's lips thinned when his gaze alighted on the warlock. Magnus smiled brilliantly in response.

"Thank you," Robert said into the phone. He replaced it on the cradle, raised his eyebrows at them, and opened his mouth.

"I think she was meeting someone," Alec said before he could get a word out.

Robert closed his mouth and frowned. "What?"

"Alanna. We -" He took the bracelet out again, glanced back at Magnus, who stepped up and provided a succinct but informative explanation of the spell he'd used. "I got into her head," Alec said, placing his hands on the desk and leaning forward. "I saw her - I _was_ her when she snuck out of the hotel that morning. It was only about a minute or so, and I couldn't read her mind or anything, but some boy had written to her. She was carrying a piece of paper. I think she was going to meet whoever wrote to her."

There was a long moment of silence as Robert mulled over this. Finally, tapping his pen against the desk, he said, "And whoever she met probably killed her."

"That may not be true," said Magnus, who was studying the ceiling. "For all we know, she met whoever she planned to meet and was later killed by someone else. Or she may have been abducted and murdered before meeting him."

Robert closed his eyes as if asking some higher power for patience. Squashing a spike of irritation, Alec pointed out, "He's right, all of those are possible."

"But who would she be meeting?" Robert asked. "You're well-acquainted with Diana - she _never_ let the kids leave the Institute alone, when they stayed here, and I doubt that's changed. Remember Adam?"

"Unfortunately," Alec muttered, unable to help himself. Behind him, Magnus's phone rang - Magnus touched Alec's back, excused himself quietly, and slipped out of the room. "But Adam used to leave after everyone was asleep and wander around for hours." Robert raised an eyebrow and Alec shrugged. "I didn't exactly blame him for wanting to get away from his mother."

"Right." Heaving a sigh, Robert rubbed his eyes. He looked very tired. "I suppose I'll call Clark and see if he has any ideas - there are only so many people they know in the city."

"Unless Alanna's taken a leaf from her brother's book and that wasn't the first time she'd snuck away from her parents."

His father pressed a hand to his forehead. "We have to start _somewhere_," he said, "so for the moment, I'll assume that _isn't_ the case. Diana won't believe it, anyway, she's still convinced that her children can do no wrong."

"Or," Alec continued regardless, "maybe she was going to meet someone she already knew from elsewhere, and he was visiting the city too."

His words had the desired effect - Robert's eyebrows met, and then his dark gaze flicked over to his right. Benjamin appeared to be completely absorbed in his book, occasionally turning a page, and he'd not given any sign that he had been listening to the conversation. "That," Robert said, returning his attention to his son, "is also a possibility."

"Alec."

Alec turned around to see Magnus leaning against the doorframe. He crooked a finger. Alec glanced back to his father, saw Robert was thoughtfully staring off into space, and walked over to Magnus. "What?"

Magnus waved his cell phone, an apologetic look on his face. "Duty calls," he said. "If you don't need me any longer, I have to run."

Quietly, so no one would overhear, Alec said, "I always need you." Magnus beamed. "But I don't think we'll get anything else from the bracelet, so…."

"All right. Call me," Magnus said, snagging Alec by the collar and tugging him in.

At the last moment, before their lips met, Alec turned his face away, and Magnus's mouth brushed his cheek instead. Magnus pulled back, looking slightly put-out. Alec bit his lip and said nothing, trying to convey _I love you very much but if you kiss me in front of my father his head may explode all over the library and some of these books can't be replaced if he gets brain matter on them_ without actually voicing the words.

Magnus's eyes sparkled. _Message received._ "I'll talk to you later." He touched Alec's wrist, spun, and strode off down the hall, the glass on his jacket twinkling.

Alec watched him go, trying to drum up the courage to turn around and check out his father's expression. He failed, but from the angle he stood at, he could see Benjamin - the other boy either hadn't noticed the almost-kiss or just didn't care. Rather hoping it was the latter, Alec said to no one in particular, "Well, I think I'll go take a shower, then," and left the library quickly.

Later that evening, he was sitting alone at the dining room table, methodically peeling an orange, when Benjamin wandered in. "Hello," Benjamin said, perfectly placid. Alec was starting to realize he always sounded like that. Depositing a piece of peel on a napkin, Alec mumbled a greeting and did not look at him - there was no point, since Benjamin never looked back.

"You look dreadful, did you know that?" Benjamin sat in an empty chair, rolling an apple from one hand to the other. Alec couldn't be sure if he was being insulted or if it was just a very blunt accurate assessment, but he let it slide either way. He wasn't in the mood to care. Isabelle had snagged him on his way to the shower, claiming she needed a training partner since both Jace and Clary were away and she was getting soft (which Alec sincerely doubted). He'd accidentally fallen asleep afterwards and had a nightmare - not the recurring one, thankfully, but dreaming about wandering around New York City, lost, and then being murdered by a man made up entirely of shadows hadn't exactly been an improvement. He felt nauseous and shaken when he woke and was only now attempting to eat something. "Who's the girl you've all been talking about?"

Alec's head jerked up at that. Benjamin was twisting the stem off his apple. Slowly, Alec sat back in his chair, clawing at a particularly stubborn bit of peel. "Do you know who Diana and Clark Ashdown are?"

"I don't think so. I know a Giovanna Ashdown," Benjamin said. "She lives in Idris. She's married into the family, though. I'm pretty sure she killed her husband for his money - his death was awfully convenient for her, everyone knows it - but she hasn't gotten into any trouble yet, and he's been dead for five years."

Unsure what to do with that information, Alec just continued on his original topic, "Alanna's - she _was_ their daughter. She was killed less than a week ago."

"Did you know her?"

"Yes." Alec folded his arms on the table and settled his chin on them. "She was eleven."

"I'm sorry." He _sounded_ sincere, but Alec could not shake off the suspicion that Benjamin's sudden appearance was not entirely coincidence. "I was listening earlier, while you and your father were talking… have you considered the chance that whatever killed her wasn't human?"

"I -" He hadn't, actually. Involuntarily, he recalled Alanna's bloodied body, and promptly lost what little appetite he'd been able to muster. "I don't think so," he said quietly. "Demons tend not to kill _just_ to kill - I mean, nothing was _eaten_. She wasn't prey."

Benjamin leaned his elbows on the table. "And she wasn't set up as a sacrifice? You're certain it wasn't a ritual of some kind?"

Shaking his head, Alec replied, "It wasn't. The way she was… _laid out_… I think whoever did that to her _wanted_ her to be found like that." Mutilated. Ruined. Helpless. "He wanted us to know what he'd done to her."

Benjamin said nothing to that. Exhaling slowly, Alec sat up again and rubbed at his aching eyes. How was it possible that he'd been feeling so good earlier? "It doesn't make sense," he found himself saying. "I get that she wanted to get away from her parents for a while, but she _had_ to realize that meeting a guy she didn't even know - without telling anyone where she was going - was _insanely _dangerous. My mother isn't half as protective as Diana Ashdown and she would've grounded any one of us forever if we'd done something like that as kids."

"You're assuming she didn't know who she was meeting," Benjamin pointed out, "And also assuming he was the one who killed her."

"Let's just say he _is_. It's suspicious either way. And even if she knew the guy, it's still a stupid idea. Why would she _do_ that?" Alec raked his fingers through his hair. They weren't even touching on the odds that she had run afoul of some mundane psychopath the Clave had no hope of finding and he was already terribly frustrated. He would make a terrible detective, he thought.

"I'm probably not the person you should be asking. I don't know how eleven-year-old girls think, I'm not an eleven-year-old girl. And if _you_ are, well, I need to find someplace very quiet and dark and rethink my entire life."

That startled a laugh out of Alec. "No, I'm not," he said, "but once Magnus told me I had the alcohol tolerance of an eleven-year-old girl, in case that counts."

Benjamin frowned at his apple. "Who's Magnus?"

"The warlock who was here earlier."

"Oh," Benjamin said. "The one you kissed." He sounded strange. Despite his better judgment telling him this would end poorly, Alec looked at him - and, for once, Benjamin willingly tore his gaze from the apple and met his eyes.

There was no deciphering Benjamin's expression. He never really seemed to have much of one, as if he was so accustomed to masking his emotions that he'd forgotten how to display them, and Alec had never seen him smile. But now… behind his light grey eyes was something dark and desolate and so _horrible_ that it squeezed Alec's throat and cut off his breath. He was staring at Alec like he'd never actually seen him before, and now that he did, he hated absolutely everything about him.

And then the moment ended. Benjamin looked away first, dropping the apple to the table. His chair screeched across the floorboards as he shoved it back, stood, and hastily left the room.

Alec sunk back into his seat, gaping at the empty doorway.

_What the hell was that?_

* * *

And we dig a bit deeper...

We also swiftly approach chapter eight, which I deeply enjoyed writing for all the wrong reasons. :D Please review, and I'll post chapter seven in a few days!


	8. Chapter Seven

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

******Notes:** I don't know why I keep calling these chapters 'short', as they're all well over three thousand words...

Anyway, holy _crap_, guys! I got thirty-three reviews yesterday! *throws confetti* So, to reward you all for being absolutely fucking awesome, I'm putting up chapter seven a day early. It'll give you a bit more insight into the batshit confusing-ness that is Benjamin Starkweather (to one particularly clever anon who reviewed - I couldn't respond to your question, but yeah, you're on to something!), as well as titillate you with some gloriously bad pacing. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Drawing a Dragonidae demon from memory was easier than Alec had thought it would be. He'd pulled a few of the demonology textbooks from Magnus's bookshelf in case he needed a reference, but they sat unopened next to him. The only time he'd seen one, it had been in a dark, filthy, unused subway tunnel, Alec was trying not to get himself or his siblings killed as his recently-dislocated knee throbbed like someone was pounding on it with a sledgehammer, and the demon had tried to rip his face off. Somehow, he'd still snapped a mental photograph that served him better than the faded pictures in the books did. He was frowning down at the parchment, trying to remember the exact pattern of spikes on its tail, when Magnus said, "You aren't listening to me, are you?"

Alec raised his head and opened his mouth to respond, but no words came forth. He hadn't actually realized Magnus had been speaking - they'd sat in companionable silence for almost two hours now, working on what Alec believed would turn out to be a general supernatural reference book for complete lunatics. "Um," he said. "No?"

"No," Magnus agreed. He leaned across the table, unclasped Alec's fingers from the pencil, and replaced it in the tin. "Talk to me, darling."

"About what?" Alec asked blankly.

"About whatever's making you look like you're keeping yourself from screaming through sheer force of will."

That was a good way of putting it, Alec thought, even if it did leave him without any appropriate responses. What was he _supposed_ to say to that?

He could start with the nightmares. He'd gone to bed at eleven-fifty, fallen asleep not long after the clock down the hall struck twelve, and woke up shrieking like an idiot at two-fifteen. The next forty minutes passed beneath the showerhead, face buried in his knees. Hands that weren't his own still clung to his wrists. He had whispered _it's just a nightmare it isn't real it's just a nightmare it isn't real it's just a nightmare it isn't real_ until the words no longer sounded like words, then proceeded to stay awake for the rest of the night. How could he explain _that_ particular fracture in his psyche, though? Magnus would think Alec was losing his nerve, getting so worked up over a dream.

Or he could begin with Alanna. His mother, when she'd briefly emerged from her bedroom to have something to eat, had told him that the Silent Brothers would be returning Alanna's body to her parents. There was no more evidence to be found, and her funeral was being prepared as they spoke. Unwillingly, Alec had remembered her chest, split wide down the sternum with the skin pulled back like a cadaver's. He refused when Maryse asked if he wanted any soup. He kept wondering how the Ashdowns could lay her to rest, still unaware of what exactly had befallen their daughter - at least Alec and his family knew what, and who, had happened to Max. One strong hammer blow to the back of the neck and he was dead. He probably hadn't even seen it coming. Better, in some sick way, than being cut up, slow and excruciating and methodical.

Or, perhaps, he could try to describe what had happened with Benjamin, but Alec didn't understand that one himself. He had gone to bed last night with the sick belief that maybe Benjamin was now certain Alec was gay and loathed him for it. It hurt more than he expected it to. The hate was nothing new - few were as blatant about it as Sebastian had been, but the people who thought Alec was some kind of freakish aberration were rarely subtle, even when they thought they were. Alec had _liked_ Benjamin, though, in spite of his baseless suspicions. After being surrounded by snarky assholes (he meant that affectionately) his entire life, meeting the strange, scatterbrained, tranquil boy had been kind of like discovering a feather among spikes. And now… Alec didn't even _know_, because he'd run into Benjamin in the kitchen this morning, and Benjamin was as congenial and serene as he always was. Either Alec had grossly misinterpreted the events of the previous night, or Benjamin was just that good at sinking his emotions into the sand and putting on a blank expression. The latter was an unsettling thought. People who were _that_ calm were usually the ones who had truly spectacular, violent meltdowns.

And Alec was tired. By the Angel, he was so tired.

"Nothing's wrong," he said. "What were you talking about?"

Magnus sucked his lips between his teeth for an second, but said, "I was approaching the conclusion of a very racy story about a werewolf and her forbidden vampire lover. We were getting to the part with the pegging, which I was going to explain in _great_ detail…."

"Try again," Alec said, cradling his chin in his hand. "You've already told me what that is."

"Have I?" Magnus rolled his eyes upwards in thought, then shrugged, a smirk finding its way to his mouth. "So I have. My, my, what would you have said two months ago if you met your future self?"

"I probably would've thought I'd gone out of my mind and then killed him."

"If you couldn't kill him and he told you everything you know now."

"Died of embarrassment."

Magnus patted his hand. "You were so _innocent_," he said, and picked up his pen. "Now you're corrupted like the rest of us."

Deciding the drawing was good enough the way it was, Alec pushed it away, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. _Innocent_ was a funny word. Much like _pure_ and _clean_, it carried the implication of virginity. When they'd finally gotten together properly, Magnus had believed Alec was a virgin - he'd not promised perfection, the first time, but he had been gentle and careful and didn't do a thing until Alec could swear he was ready for it - and Alec had let him believe that. He'd only said he hadn't ever been kissed. If Magnus followed that thought to its logical conclusion and assumed Alec had never had sex, either… well, that may or may not have been entirely true. _It was_, he'd told himself again and again when he felt guilty for misleading Magnus, but if it _hadn't_ been, then the misconception wasn't exactly Alec's fault.

Alec stood up so fast the chair tipped over and hit the wall. He grabbed it before it fell entirely, turned it upright, avoiding Magnus's eyes. "I'm going to go home."

"You just got here a little while ago," Magnus said, hastily setting aside his pen and following Alec into the hall.

"I don't feel very good." It wasn't even a lie, really, he was so tired that he felt sick to his stomach. He shrugged into his jacket and jammed his feet into his boots.

"Alec -"

"I'll talk to you tonight," Alec said, and let himself out, closing the door on Magnus's baffled expression.

Magnus called him at nine p.m.. Alec didn't pick up.

"Are you and Magnus fighting?" Isabelle asked the next morning. She was sashaying around the kitchen, chopping up strawberries to add to her cereal. _She_ was in a good mood. Alec knew better than to ask her why - she might actually tell him.

"No."

"So you're just giving him the silent treatment?" she said, giving his phone a significant look as it vibrated.

"Why not?" Alec said. He snatched his phone off the table and stuffed it in his pocket. "He's done it to me." Giving his cereal one last unenthusiastic poke, he got up and dumped it out.

His depressed funk only lasted as long as it took him to begin feeling seriously guilty about ignoring Magnus's messages, which occurred at about noon. Sprawling out on his bed, he picked up his phone, opened the most recent text, and typed: **Yeah, I'm feeling better now. Sorry about that.**

**It's all right**, Magnus replied a few minutes later. **Come by later if you're feeling up to it. I'll make dinner. :)**

_Sure, he had to add the smiley face,_ Alec thought. _Just make me feel worse about being a jerk._

"Hey." Isabelle knocked on the open door, leaning against the frame. "Want Chinese food for lunch? I have a craving."

"Um. Sure?"

She took the menu from her pocket. "I'll just order a bunch of the usual," she said, unfolding it. "And whatever Benjamin wants… avoid the kitchen, by the way, Mom and Dad are having a bitchfest and it sounds ugly." Isabelle rolled her eyes. "I'll call it in, you pick it up. I'm not paying for delivery and I need a shower." And she whirled off as quickly as she'd come, leaving Alec blinking.

"Okay," he called after her. Ten minutes later, she yelled at him to go get the food, so he rolled off the bed and tried to make himself look marginally presentable. How well it actually worked was debatable. Deciding he didn't much care if anyone in the Chinese take-out thought he looked slovenly, he put on his shoes, headed down the hall, and walked right into Benjamin when he turned a corner. "Sorry," he said automatically.

"It's fine." Benjamin was staring off down the hall, lips set in a tight line; Alec was about to ask if he was all right when he heard his parents' low, angry voices in the kitchen.

"Did you walk in on that?"

"Yes. I left before they saw me."

Thinking it said something about his parents that stumbling across them fighting was as bad as stumbling across them having sex, Alec made a split-second decision and said, "Listen, I'm going to pick up lunch and I might need another pair of hands. You can come along, if you want."

Benjamin did not respond for so long Alec was sure he'd refuse, but before he could decide whether or not that would be a good thing, Benjamin said, "All right," and followed him down the hall. They crept past the kitchen as quickly and quietly as possible, made it into the elevator, and burst out into the crisp afternoon air with an undeniable sense of relief. "If you don't mind me asking, is that… normal?"

"Unfortunately," Alec said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hesitated, then added, "It's been worse since my brother died. They're not usually _that_ bad." Immediately after he said it, he wondered what had compelled him to do so - maybe a deep need to tell _someone_. He couldn't talk to Magnus about these things, as much as he loved him. How could he say 'all my parents do anymore is fight and secretly it scares the hell out of me' to a man whose mother had hung herself because she believed she'd birthed a monster, whose father had tried to drown him when he was only ten years old? Even talking to Jace and Isabelle would just be preaching to the choir.

"I heard about your brother." Benjamin wrapped his jacket around himself, squinting into the wind. "I'm sorry. I know he was young. I didn't know Hodge well enough to mourn him properly. I have sisters - half-sisters - but they'd all married and moved out by the time I was born and they never came back. I don't blame them, my father is an asshole."

"Oh." For someone who was so quiet otherwise, Benjamin talked a _lot_ when he had an audience. Like he'd been lonely for so long that he'd talk to whoever would listen. Alec didn't know how to feel about him, didn't know how _Benjamin_ felt about _him_, but he suddenly thought that they were much more similar than he'd initially realized. "He never told me he had sisters, either. He… didn't really tell us much about himself at all." He kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk. "I didn't even know he'd been in the Circle until after he'd given Jace to Valentine and left."

"I did. I think I was about five during the Uprising - my father had an absolute _fit_ when he found out Hodge had been arrested. I'm surprised he didn't have a stroke, he was that furious. He wouldn't go see him before he was exiled." Benjamin frowned faintly, looking up at the buildings towering around them. "I don't really remember him."

They crossed the street with the rest of the crowd waiting for the WALK sign to light. The Chinese place was only a few blocks away, a fifteen-minute journey at most, but Alec wasn't making any particular effort to get back home soon. "He was like my father," he eventually said, "even though I already have one. He tutored us, he patched us up when we did stupid things, he let us all live longer than we probably deserved. He might not have been the most morally upright man, but - he was afraid of Valentine. I think, in the end, he was doing what he thought was right." Alec shrugged. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could still see the dagger plunging into Hodge's chest, but it generally haunted him less than his other ghosts. "I was poisoned by a Greater Demon. He was betraying us and leaving the Institute for good and he _still_ thought to call Magnus to heal me. I can't really be angry with him anymore."

"I used to hate him," Benjamin said. "When I was younger. I thought that if he hadn't joined up with Valentine and been exiled, then I would've had someone besides my father for company. Then I got a little older and realized that he couldn't have been any happier growing up in that house than I was - my father's notoriously unpleasant, his mother died when he was a child, Anna and Elsie… I don't know, I barely know them. I imagine he fell in with Valentine's lot because they were more of a family than his real family was."

The rest of the walk to the restaurant was slow and quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It was only when Alec went in to pick up the food that he realized Isabelle had never given him any money; mentally composing a complaint he'd never voice, he paid out of pocket and took the bags out. He could've carried them both, but Benjamin took one from him anyway. He had stayed outside and gazed around with the faintest possible expression of awe. "I've never actually left Idris before now," he said in response to Alec's unasked question. "I can't figure out if this place is amazing or terrifying."

"You'd never left?"

Benjamin shook his head, the wind blowing his curls into wild disarray. "I never had any reason to, until…." He trailed off, pursing his lips, and started walking back towards the Institute. It was easy enough for Alec to catch up, and they meandered along in silence again, though not as companionably as the first time.

They had gone about three blocks when Alec abruptly realized that Benjamin was watching him with that same strange look on his face. He turned his head quickly, but Benjamin was faster, and their eyes did not meet. "Why do you do that?" Alec demanded.

"What?"

"_Look_ at me like that, and then… not look at me at all."

Benjamin was staring fixedly at a newspaper stand on the corner. "Look at you how?"

"I - I don't _know_." Alec stopped walking; when Benjamin noticed, he stopped too but did not turn to face him. "I don't know. I just don't like it."

"I'm sorry," Benjamin said, raking his hair out of his face. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You…." He trailed off, was quiet for a long minute before saying, "You look like someone I knew. It's a bit startling."

Assuming that was the only explanation he was going to get, Alec sighed and started moving again. "Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't glare at me like you hate me when you think I'm not looking."

This time, Benjamin was the one who stopped walking. "I do hate you a little bit, I suppose."

Alec winced. "Good to know," he said, tightening his grip on the plastic bag and taking a few more steps. He really wasn't very good at this whole 'making friends' thing, was he? No wonder the only people he hung around with were his siblings, _their_ friends, and Magnus. "Come on, the food's going to get cold."

"Maybe hate isn't the right word. 'Resent' might be more accurate."

_What the hell,_ Alec thought. Every molecule of common sense he possessed was warning him that he didn't want to venture down this route, that he might not like the answer, but nevertheless, he turned around. "Why?"

Benjamin peered into the bag he carried. "That warlock of yours." His eyes darted up to Alec's and away again as Alec blinked at him, stomach tightening. "You - I saw you with him in the library the other day. You love him. You're so _happy_ it's almost sickening." His voice fell so low Alec could barely hear him over the typical Manhattan uproar. "The only person I love that much is dead," he said, and with obvious effort he lifted his head and met Alec's gaze. Again, Alec caught a glimpse of that empty, lightless place trapped behind his eyes. "And every time I look at you I see _him_, and it reminds me that he's gone and I'm alone, and I resent you for still having what was taken away from me." He paused, frowned. "That sounds horrible, doesn't it."

"I -" Alec's higher brain function had come to a screaming halt, leaving him staring stupidly at Benjamin, who began walking and strode right past him. The first coherent thought he managed was _it can't be_, followed by the even less appropriate _you know, I wouldn't have pegged him as gay._

He shut that second one down before it went anywhere. If Magnus had taught him anything at all, when he'd taken a chisel to Alec's deeply-internalized preconceptions of sexuality, it was that the whole thing was a _little_ more complicated than the straight-or-gay belief he'd always held. For all Alec knew, Benjamin could be bisexual, or pansexual, or generally straight and attracted to only one guy, or hell, he might not have even meant _love_ in a romantic sense at all, though that seemed unlikely. But he was a Shadowhunter, and he'd just strongly implied that he'd fallen in love with another man.

"Dude, could you get out of the way?" A girl squeezed past him, scowling, and Alec remembered that he was standing in the middle of a crowded sidewalk and gawking at Benjamin, who was already a block ahead.

"Sorry," he said. He took off at the fastest jog he could manage without knocking into anyone or destroying the food in the bag. By the time he caught up, Benjamin was already fumbling one-handed with the heavy latch on the Institute's gates. "Wait -"

Benjamin started, spun around, raised his eyebrows when he saw Alec. "I know," he said, as Alec opened his mouth. "I felt the same way, when I found out." He almost smiled, then - just the slightest lift of one corner of his lips, but Alec knew what it was. "It's kind of liberating, isn't it? Knowing you're not the only one?"

_Yes, it is_, Alec thought. He couldn't get the words out. They went inside together, rode the elevator up, and he was still attempting to think of something to say when Isabelle appeared out of nowhere and tried to kill them with her eyes. "Where the hell were you two?" she demanded, rubbing a towel through her hair. "It's been _forty-five minutes_! Did you get lost?" Muttering darkly, she snatched the bag from Benjamin's hand and stalked off towards the kitchen; looking bemused, Benjamin followed.

As cliché as it sounded, Alec decided, right now, he was pretty certain he'd never been _less_ lost in his entire life.

* * *

Up next: _THE_ chapter eight. I don't think I've had so much fun writing anything in... well, ever. Please review, and I'll torture you with it ASAP! :D


	9. Chapter Eight

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

This chapter contains a dream about the lead-up to a rape. Again, there's no sexual content, but it might make you uncomfortable if you're sensitive to that kind of thing.

******Notes:** Well, my friends, here we are - the long-awaited chapter eight. *giggles maliciously* This part is like one of those dodgy carnival rides that shuts you in a rickety cage and flings you upside-down and sideways and backwards. Protip: don't allow yourself to be lured into a false sense of security.**  
**

Enjoy, if you dare.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Alec hadn't gotten two steps into Magnus's apartment when the warlock came creeping out of the study on tiptoe, closing the door so gently that the latch sliding into place was inaudible. Bewildered, Alec said, "What are you doing?" and watched as Magnus leapt approximately two feet directly upwards.

"Don't _do_ that," Magnus sighed, a hand fluttering over his heart. "And for your information, I have an _extremely_ delicate potion in the works that needs to simmer untouched for precisely one-hundred and forty minutes. If it's disturbed in the slightest, it'll separate, and then my whole day will be for naught. It is nice to see you, though," he added, as if afraid Alec might have gotten the wrong impression.

"Yeah," Alec said awkwardly. He chose a couch in the living room, the white one scattered with half a dozen consignment-shop throw pillows of all sizes and colors, and sat down. "Listen, I'm sorry about… not answering your calls or anything. I didn't feel well and I just wanted to be left alone for a while."

Magnus seemed to accept that readily enough. He meandered closer and closer, and Alec sprawled lengthwise along the couch, studying Magnus the way his cat had studied the birds in the garden. "I told you it was all right. I ended up being invited to a last-minute birthday party, anyway, and I _knew_ you wouldn't want to be my plus-one, so I moseyed on over and enjoyed it by my lonesome. You would've hated it, it was very rambunctious. Two people died. Fabulous example of a Gatsby party, I think."

"Not good enough for a Dothraki wedding, though." Alec leaned his head back against the armrest and shrugged at Magnus's raised eyebrow. "Nobody really paid attention to what I was reading when I was a kid."

"I see," Magnus said, stopping beside the couch. "Well, I think -"

Whatever he thought was drowned out by a squawk as Alec lurched up, grabbed Magnus around the waist, and yanked him down. Grinning, watching Magnus flail about in an ungainly fashion for a moment before accepting that he was now a human blanket, Alec said, "Hi."

Magnus looked at him suspiciously. Evidence of the previous night's festivities was caught in his hair and eyelashes; every time he moved his head too quickly, glitter fell like snow. "Oh, lord," he said in his 'portent of doom' voice, "you're in a good mood. Is this Armageddon? Should I be running for the panic room?"

"You have a panic room?"

"No, but my closet ought to suffice." Magnus propped himself up on his elbows and settled his chin in his hands. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen you this happy before. These days you usually look like someone just killed and ate your dog -"

"I've never had a dog," said Alec, who was feeling contrary. "I don't like dogs."

"Your cat, then."

"She was dead long before I met -"

"_And_," Magnus continued loudly, "now you come strolling in here looking like you could swallow the sun and not get burnt."

Making a face, Alec said, "Do you know how big the sun is, Magnus? It's about 1.4 _million_ kilometers across. Even if it didn't burn me, I'd never be able to swallow it."

"Well -" Magnus poked Alec's nose affectionately, "not having a gag reflex might help you in that respect. But I was being metaphorical. What could possibly put you in _this_ good of a mood?"

"Nothing. It's dumb."

"You've never said anything that I've considered dumb. Although…" Trailing off, Magnus thoughtfully rolled his eyes upwards, then said, "Except maybe that time with the rum. Never again…."

Alec frowned. "What's wrong with rum?"

"You don't _remember_ what's wrong with rum, that's what's wrong with rum. Now…" he tugged at Alec's collar, "tell me."

As difficult as it was to weave his racing thoughts into words, this, at least, he could tell Magnus about. The warlock would understand isolation. He'd understand what it was like to no longer feel alone. "Benjamin," he said, "I told you about him the other day, right? I thought he didn't like me. I was wrong, though - I talked to him earlier and I found out I look like his dead - boyfriend, I guess, for lack of a better word." Magnus made a sound Alec interpreted as interest and he went on. "I don't know what he is. I don't know if he even labels himself like I do. But I thought I was the _only one_, and - I know that's statistically impossible, but I felt so alone, and now I'm… not."

When he met the bright slit-pupiled eyes again, he found Magnus did not look quite as pleased by this revelation as Alec had been. Magnus sat up, expression undecipherable. "What about that girl? Penhallow, I think you said."

"Aline? She's… a girl, I guess. I have no idea, Magnus, that's different, somehow. I _know_ it's irrational. It was just nice to find someone else like me."

Magnus hiked an eyebrow. "And I suppose I don't count?"

Alec propped himself up on his elbows. Ordinarily, he would've been uncomfortably aware of Magnus's weight settled across his hips, but there were more pressing matters at hand, and it barely registered in his mind. "You're not a Shadowhunter." Magnus had not lived under the same expectations they did. "Are… are you _jealous_? He isn't anything to me. I'm not even sure we're actually friends." Alec didn't have a mental folder labeled _Friends_. Nor did he have one for _Potentially (But Hopefully Not) the Murderer of an Eleven-Year-Old Girl_.

"I know," Magnus said. He ran his fingers through his spiked hair, showered them both with sparkles. "I'm not jealous, Alec, not in _that_ way. In all the time I've known you, though, I've _never_ seen you look so happy, and I had nothing to do with it. It took a boy you barely know to make you feel this way." He smiled, almost sadly - and then suddenly swung himself to his feet and headed towards the kitchen. "I promised you dinner, right? I was planning on making stir-fry."

Feeling like he'd been tossed off a boat into stormy waters, Alec stared after him. Magnus's mood swings were impossible to navigate. _You _always_ make me this happy,_ he wanted to say, _it's just because I've been so stressed lately that you've noticed the difference -_but what came out of his mouth instead was, "Do you want some help?"

"No." Something clanged against the stove. "If you'd like to do me a favor, though, distract Chairman Meow. He's moping around in the sink again."

Alec, with nothing better to do, slid to the floor and lured the cat into the living room with a jingly ball. He spent the next twenty minutes playing 'Dig the Ball Out From Under the Furniture' with Chairman Meow until Magnus called him in for dinner. There was still a prickling tension in the air, though, and nobody said anything at first as they sat down to eat. Alec shredded a piece of chicken with his fork and finally blurted, "I don't want you to be mad about this."

"I'm not mad."

"You're acting like you're mad."

"I'm not mad," Magnus repeated, so calmly that it grated on Alec's nerves.

"Good," he said, stabbing a snow pea, "because if you were, that would be really hypocritical of you."

Magnus looked up from his plate. "Excuse me?"

_Stop talking_, he told himself. "Considering how pissed you get whenever I get jealous of people you've _actually dated_, it would be kind of weird if you were upset over this."

It was clearly the wrong thing to say, and yet Alec couldn't bring himself to feel bad. He was slowly learning how to call people out for being assholes to him. "Well," Magnus said icily, "it's not exactly fun for me, either, when you ask about these people and I _tell_ you and you behave like I'm cheating on you."

"But it's _all_ you ever bring up! Maybe I want to hear something about your life that _doesn't_ involve one of the many people you've slept with before me."

Magnus set down his cutlery, pressed his fingers to his temples, and slowly breathed in, then out. "I don't want to argue about this right now."

"You never do," Alec muttered.

"So," Magnus continued right over him, "we're going to play the Quiet Game. First person to talk loses."

Derailed from his frustration, Alec glanced up and looked at Magnus blankly. "Why would I want to do that?"

A slight smirk lifting his lips, Magnus said, "If you win, I'll let you top tonight."

Several thoughts occurred to Alec at that, the foremost of which was that they should probably stop solving all of their issues with sex, but…. "Fair enough." Some of the tension dissipated. He scooped up a carrot and added, "You know, once, when I was twelve, I didn't talk to anyone at all for eight months straight."

Magnus jabbed his fork at Alec. "Selective mutism does _not_ give you any bonus points."

"No, but it gives me an advantage." Grinning at the look on Magnus's face, Alec dug into his dinner. He was hungry - really, properly hungry - for the first time in what felt like forever.

Magnus did not break quite so easily as Alec had predicted. It had been an hour and a half since Magnus declared the Quiet Game begun and he was still steadfastly silent, feet propped up on the coffee table in the den, watching reruns of _Project Runway_. Alec gazed out the window and tried to decide if a fall from this height would be enough to kill him. He usually hated Magnus's choice of television programs, and tonight was no different. Deciding the drop probably wouldn't do much more than break a few bones, unless he took a really good swan dive off the roof, he looked back at Magnus and figured it was high time he put years of being the oldest of four into use and played dirty. So Alec pinched him.

"_OW_!" Magnus yelped, hand flying to his thigh. He added a few more words in a language Alec didn't recognize and gave him the filthiest glare he had ever seen.

Alec smiled sweetly. "I win."

Magnus's face contorted. "You -" Words failing him, he pounced. Alec, laughing maniacally, didn't resist as the warlock pinned him to the couch. "That was _cheating_. I'm going to make you pay for that later," he threatened. Or promised - Alec was unsure. And he didn't care, either, just pulled Magnus's head down until their lips collided. Having Magnus's tongue halfway down his throat quieted his hysterics. Mumbling something Alec didn't catch, Magnus nipped at his lower lip, and Alec fumbled with the buttons on Magnus's shirt, wondering why he'd chosen to wear something so damn complicated -

And then whatever had been percolating in the study erupted with a thunderous _bang_.

Magnus dropped his head onto Alec's shoulder and groaned, "_Fuck_," in such a despondent voice that it set Alec off again. "Oh, shut up," said Magnus, swatting Alec on the chest and rolling to his feet. "I don't laugh at your misfortune, do I? I'll be right back, I need to make sure that's not eating through the walls or anything…."

Once he'd gone, Alec gulped down the laughter with some effort and flung an arm over his eyes. He was still grinning like a loon. Despite everything that had happened in the past week, even the argument he and Magnus had narrowly skated around not two hours ago, it was a wonderful night.

He realized, when those teeth tightened around his collarbone and a hand clamped over his mouth like a vice, that it had been much too good to last.

"_Shut_ _up_. Shut up and don't scream. If you scream, I'll kill you."

_Bullshit_, Alec thought dizzily, in that place where he could still think rationally despite the panic that seared through him like poison. He'd been told he was very calm in a crisis; apparently it was true. _There's no way in hell you'd get away with that_. He writhed and the hand fell away from his mouth, twisted into his hair in a mockery of a loving grip, yanking his head back as far as it could go. He sucked in a breath to call the bluff -

The fist that drove into his stomach kicked the air out of his lungs. Gagging, he tried to curl in on himself, but the boy sitting on his legs prevented that. "Son of a _bitch _-" There was a scraping sound, like glass on wood, and something burnt against his neck. Four sharp lines and suddenly Alec's hitching breaths no longer made a sound. "Now shut up," the boy said, dropping the stele back onto the nightstand.

Plan… what was he up to now, C? Blood dribbled into his eye. He didn't entirely remember being struck in the head, those crucial moments - the ones where he could have _gotten away_ - were empty.

The button on his jeans popped open beneath deft fingers. Riding a thrill of pure terror - _from Latin 'terrere', to frighten_, he thought clinically - Alec slipped his hand beneath the pillow and curled his hand around the hilt of a knife. _Forgot to check for weapons, idiot._ The soft flesh at the base of the throat would probably be best. Not enough to kill, but enough to scare, to give him time to escape.

He yanked the knife out from under the pillow. He swung.

At the last possible instant, the boy jerked back. The tip of the knife carved deep, but not deep enough, splattered his shirt with blood, caught on the boy's necklace, sliced through the leather cord like it wasn't there at all. And then he had Alec's wrist between both hands, squeezing. A bone splintered. Involuntarily, Alec's fingers loosened, and the knife clattered to the floor. Someone was shouting - it couldn't have been him, the rune kept him silent - and the hand around his wrist felt all wrong, it was too big and too tight and _let go of me please just let go LET GO!_

"_Alec_!"

Alec brought one knee up and slammed it into his attacker's stomach. Blind, wild with panic, he shoved his hand under his pillow, snapped open his knife, flipped them both over in a move he'd practiced with Jace a million times, and held the blade against the carotid artery.

"_Let go of me_," he hissed.

"Alec." The eyes were wide. Wide and the wrong color. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "It's all right. You're dreaming. I'm not touching you, you're safe."

Alec's hand trembled, and he pressed the blade into skin (wrong color), bright spheres of blood welling up around the metal.

"Alexander," came the voice again, soft, soothing. "It was just a dream. I promise, you're safe."

Alec blinked. Magnus blinked back, pale in the moonlight, eyes the size of saucers, cool despite the knife at his throat. The knife _Alec was holding_ at his throat.

All at once, the spell broke - Alec dropped the blade like it had burnt him and fell back against the windows, clapping his hands over his mouth to muffle the strange, sobbing breaths he drew. Magnus sat up very slowly, his fingers smearing the blood on his neck. He didn't take his eyes off Alec as he picked up the butterfly knife. Perhaps trying for levity, he glanced at it and said, "I can't believe you sleep with this under your pillow."

Alec surged forward, grabbed the knife from him, and threw it aside. It thunked against the wall and fell out of sight. That done, he retreated into himself, hugging his knees, burying his face in them. He couldn't even _begin_ to find the words to berate himself for his reaction. His mind was still blank from fear, but the survival instincts were receding, as was the adrenaline, leaving him dizzy and weak and shaking uncontrollably. _Oh, god_,was his first coherent thought, _what did I just _do_?!_

"Hey," Magnus said, very quietly. There was a rustling noise. "It's all right. Alec, baby, are -"

The moment his fingertips touched Alec's head, Alec exploded into motion. He rocked back, slapped Magnus's hand away so hard the sound echoed, clawed his way to his feet with the curtains as support. "_Don't touch me!_"

"Okay, okay." Magnus raised his hands placatingly, but Alec was already off the mattress, striding across the room. "Where are you -"

"Leave me _alone_," Alec said, in a tight, high voice that sounded absolutely nothing like his own. He reached the hall, grabbed the knob, and slammed the door behind him. Something on the bedroom wall fell to the floor.

The corridor was silent and shadowed. Alec gave brief thought to running, but he was wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt of Magnus's advertising some music festival he'd never been to, so he dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. His shoulder banged against the doorway when he stumbled into the den on uncooperative feet. Spotting a sunny yellow blanket thrown over a chair, he dragged it off and poured himself onto the couch. There, he curled into the smallest possible ball beneath the blanket and shook.

_It wasn't real_, he told himself. His mental voice wasn't as firm as it usually was. _It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real. You nearly slit your boyfriend's throat over a _dream_. You're losing it. You _have_ to stop this._ Gripping his hair, Alec squeezed his eyes shut and tried to gather himself. If he could just wind all the tendrils of that nightmare into a neat ball, put it back away in its box and lock the lid, everything would be all right again. Mind over matter. And a healthy dose of denial, perhaps, but he'd never claimed to be perfect. _It wasn't real. It was only a nightmare. It isn't real. It isn't real._

Magnus was probably furious, he thought dimly, pressing his cheek against the couch cushion. All those relationships, how many of his lovers had ever tried to open his throat while seized in the grasp of a nightmare?

The panicked shivering slowed but didn't cease. He was freezing. He left his shirt on, though he was soaked in a cold sweat, and burrowed deeper into the folds of the blanket. It was a light, summery thing, not meant for sleeping under in November. The time on the DVD player marched onwards as Alec slipped in and out of a hazy doze. He sank his nails into his wrist every time he felt himself falling asleep. The bone wasn't broken anymore, but it still hurt badly enough to jolt him awake.

2:38. _It was just a nightmare._

3:23. _It isn't real._

4:09. _Nothing ever happened._

At 4:44, Alec heard Magnus's bedroom door creak open, followed by soft footsteps in the hallway. He didn't bother forcing his eyelids open yet. He was lying on his stomach now, though he didn't quite recall turning over, with his head on his arms. His breath puffed against the inside of his elbow when he sighed. This was going to be interesting.

Magnus didn't seem to realize Alec was awake, because he crept into the den silently, then stood by Alec's feet and just… looked at him. His gaze draped over Alec like a second blanket. He was probably wondering just what kind of head case his boyfriend really was, Alec thought. He let it go on for a while, too wrung-out to care, but finally said, "It's rude to stare."

Magnus made a noise that could've been amusement. "You're gorgeous, though, how could I not?" He came around the couch. Alec squirmed onto his side, having little room for movement on the narrow cushions, and propped himself up on his hands. As soon as Magnus sat, Alec flopped into his lap. Magnus stiffened slightly, then relaxed, the muscles in his legs twitching beneath Alec's head. "Is it okay if I touch you?" he asked.

"Yeah," Alec yawned. His nerves had settled, his nightmares, for the moment, were shut away. "I'm all right now."

Still, Magnus was very gentle when he stroked his fingers through Alec's hair. "Are you?"

"I'm sorry about that," Alec said. He sounded hoarse - he suspected he'd been screaming before Magnus woke him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I've had worse paper cuts," Magnus murmured dismissively. "And really, I should be the one apologizing. You were obviously distressed and I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have tried to touch you right after you were shouting at me to let go of you."

Alec shook his head, smoothed his thumb over a wrinkle in Magnus's pajama pants. "Don't worry about it. I'm all right."

"Mm." Magnus's hand feathered over Alec's hair. Alec closed his eyes again and stamped down the needles of panic that swept over him when the warlock's fingers touched the nape of his neck. "Go back to sleep then, love."

Not bothering to correct him, Alec just exhaled slowly, folded his arms in Magnus's lap and settled his head down on them. He could not - _would_ not - sleep anymore tonight, but he let himself fall down in the fog again, allowing Magnus's deep, even breaths to lull him into a doze.

He half-noticed Magnus waking later, sliding out from beneath Alec and sticking a pillow under his head before leaving the room. He could tell exactly which pillow it was by the clicking of the beaded fringe. Wondering what that said about him, he lay on the couch for a little while longer and then sat up. A thin beam of sunlight had crept into the room through a gap in the curtains, and Alec watched dust motes swirl through it, idly folding the yellow blanket into a fat square. Magnus was rattling around in the study. Alec seized this opportunity to change clothes - his t-shirt was sticky with sweat and felt truly disgusting - and wandered into the kitchen while Magnus was still busy.

Chairman Meow was asleep in the fruit bowl. Next to it was a mesh bag of oranges, and Alec picked one out, knowing full well they were for him. Magnus had once confessed that he thought oranges were the most vile citrus fruits ever put on the Earth, and their twisted hybrids were unholy creations that offended his sensibilities. He'd also asserted the vast superiority of grapes in the same sentence, but Alec, who was allergic to grapes, could neither confirm nor deny that claim. However, he did eat oranges like they were candy, sometimes just to watch the disgusted faces Magnus made. Magnus still always kept a few in the apartment.

"Oh, good, you're awake." Magnus came in, pulling a light blue sweater over his head. He narrowed his eyes at Alec's choice of breakfast, plucked a bagel from the toaster, and sat down at the other side of the table.

"Are you remaking your potion?"

"Not right now. Maybe when I have a few hours free - obviously I can't trust myself not to get distracted." He gave Alec a sly look. "At least it didn't explode all over my book. I'd hate for you to need to redraw everything you've done so far."

Alec shrugged. "I wouldn't have minded."

Having coated his bagel in half an inch of cream cheese, Magnus inspected it, then apparently deemed it suitable and took a bite. "Listen, Alec -"

"No," Alec said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Magnus sighed and tore a chunk off his bagel. "Listen," he repeated, "there are nightmares, and then there are _nightmares_. You, my dear, have ventured into the land of the latter. You were holding a knife to my throat. And you had _no idea_ who I was. Alec, I love you more than anything in the world, and I'm not angry with you, but that…" He shook his head. "That was frightening."

Alec looked at the remaining half of his orange despairingly, then pushed it away. "I'm _sorry_," he said. "It's never been that bad before. It won't happen again." Even if he had to give up his biggest source of security - the knife beneath his pillow - he would make sure last night's events never recurred. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"I think you need to."

"There's nothing -"

Magnus cut him off, talking fast, as if he was rapidly losing his patience. "You can insist you're fine and that nothing's wrong until you're blue in the face, but you _had a knife to my throat_."

"I know!" Alec picked up a piece of orange peel and started tearing it into confetti. Anything to keep from making eye contact right now. The wild, anxious feeling he'd managed to mollify last night was coming back with reinforcements. "I told you, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you."

"Who did you think I was?"

"Nobody. It doesn't matter." _Nothing happened._

"Yes, it does," Magnus insisted.

Resisting the urge to throw orange peel pieces at him, Alec said, "It doesn't. I don't want to think about him." _Nothing happened._

"Why not?"

"I just _don't_!" Alec shoved his chair back, stood, flung the bits of peel at the trash can. Most of them missed. "Leave it alone, Magnus." _Nothing happened._

Magnus, infuriatingly, set down the bagel and held his palms together like he was praying, pressed them to his lips. His voice was very level when he said, "What did he do to you?"

"_Nothing_," Alec said, stretching the word out. "Nothing happened. It was just a nightmare. You don't have to look at me like I'm cracking up, I'm _fine_." He picked up some of the peel confetti, because it was Magnus's kitchen and he didn't like leaving a mess, but also so he could try to breathe through the cord pulling tight in his chest.

Magnus's chair scraped along the floor as he got up. Alec saw him lean expectantly across the table out of the corner of his eye, like he was waiting for Alec to look at him. If that was the case, he'd be there a long, long time. "You are _not_ fine. You thought I was this person - _why_ did you want to cut his throat?"

The cord snapped. Alec straightened up, turned to face him. The words that came out of his mouth were not his own - at least, they _felt_ like they were being shrieked from someone locked far inside of him. "_Because I thought he was still touching me!_"

A drop shroud of silence fell. Magnus's lips parted into an 'o'. There was a deep, primal horror coming to life behind his extraordinary eyes.

Alec's mind helpfully provided him with the Latin root for 'horror'.

He turned and bolted, incredibly glad he'd put his boots on already. The loop on his jacket tore when he yanked it from the hook; uncaring, he threaded his arms through the sleeves, shoved the door open with his shoulder, and left.

Halfway down the stairs, he stopped, covering his mouth with his hand and fighting down the sudden urge to be sick. _Why did you say that?_ _Nobody never touched you. You shouldn't have said that. Nothing happened._

"Nothing happened," he said out loud, once his stomach ceased churning. Magnus hadn't followed him. Alec took the rest of the steps slowly, repeating the words in his mind. _Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing _ever_ happened._

It had never sounded more like a lie.

* * *

For those of you unfamiliar with the _A Song of Ice and Fire_ series, the Dothraki consider any wedding with less than three deaths a boring affair.

Um. I have nothing else to say except for the usual plea for reviews. xD Chapter nine should pop up this weekend!


	10. Chapter Nine

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes:** A short, slightly fillery, palate-cleansing chapter to help you recover from the previous one. Don't start feeling complacent, though, things kick back up again in chapter ten.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

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Predictably, Alec lasted less than two days before the remorse kicked in. This time, though, he didn't give in to it - he shut his phone away in the nightstand drawer and curled back up on his bed, running his fingers along the edges of the quilt. _He shouldn't have started prying._ The guilt swelled up again and he fisted his hands in the blanket. _I could have killed him. He had every right to pry._

Magnus had sent him about half a dozen text messages since yesterday morning, which Alec read but didn't reply to. They'd started out remorseful - **Alec, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed.** - progressed to pleading - **Call me, please? Or text, I don't care, just answer me.** - and finally settled into acceptance - **All right. I'm here if you need me. I love you.** That last one had almost undone Alec's resolve, but he'd hidden his phone so he didn't succumb. He didn't want to talk to Magnus right now. He told himself he was still angry that Magnus hadn't left him alone when he'd asked, but in his heart, he knew he was simply afraid.

Not for the first time, Alec wished Jace was here. The blond was a sarcastic, arrogant pain in the ass, but he had been Alec's best friend since they were ten years old, and he could make Alec feel better even while simultaneously pissing him off. Being away from his _parabatai_ was like constantly catching his clothes on things - mildly annoying the first couple of times he noticed it, then increasingly frustrating on every occasion afterward. When was he supposed to get home, anyway? Regarding the last text message Alec sent him, Jace just came back with a cryptic response Alec was fairly certain had been code for 'I'm having crazy amounts of sex with Clary'. Judging by that, he wouldn't be returning for a _long_ time, if ever.

Alec sighed and drew his knees up to his chest, regarding the wall tiredly. The right thing to do would be to reply to Magnus's texts. The longer he ignored him, the more difficult it would be to get their relationship back on track - provided they still _had_ a relationship, of course. Magnus didn't seem to be upset, but considering what Alec had screeched at him… he wasn't quite sure he'd blame Magnus if the warlock decided he didn't want him anymore.

_It wasn't true. Just tell him it wasn't true._

_Even if it was, it wouldn't be your fault, and if Magnus blames you, he doesn't _deserve_ you._

"_Damn_ you," Alec said out loud, punching the mattress. "Shut up."

"What did _I_ do?"

Alec craned his neck to look over his shoulder - he couldn't move his body, since Church was lying behind his shoulders and somehow managing to take up the majority of his queen-sized bed. Benjamin stood in the doorway, looking placid, as usual. _Did I forget to close the door again? _"Not you," Alec said. "I'm just… thinking out loud."

"I see." Benjamin glanced around the room. He had, to Alec's relief, stopped staring at him when he didn't think Alec would notice. "Listen, I'm going for a walk, and since I have no idea _where_ I'm going, do you want to come with me?"

Alec glanced at his watch. 6:39 p.m.. "I don't know," he said, sinking his head further into the pillow. Ever since he'd left Magnus's apartment, he had felt sluggish and unmotivated. "Did you ask Isabelle?"

"To be perfectly honest, I'm afraid of her. She reminds me of a praying mantis. Has she ever bitten off any of her boyfriends' heads?"

"Not that I know of, but don't mention it, she might get ideas." Sighing, Alec sat up, ran his fingers through his hair, grimaced. "Give me ten minutes to shower and I'll go with you."

It took him less than ten minutes, but then, Alec was not nearly as invested in his own appearance as Magnus was. The man could spend forty minutes getting ready in the morning. He did always end up looking fabulous, though… Alec shuttered those thoughts before they could start to hurt and took the elevator downstairs. Benjamin was waiting for him in the cathedral, inspecting the intricate stained-glass windows with absolutely no interest. Alec had always liked those windows - when he was a child, he would come here in the early morning just to watch the sunlight peek through and scatter misshapen squares of colored light on the floor. It was dark out now, and only the candles brightened the room. "Where do you want to go?"

Benjamin shrugged. "I've no idea. Since I'm not going to be here very long, I thought I should try actually leaving the Institute for a change."

"We could go to the park," Alec suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

And so they left, Alec leading Benjamin in the direction of Central Park, neither of them speaking. Alec didn't mind the silence. It appeared Benjamin did, though, because they'd only gone a couple of blocks when he said, "You're very quiet."

"Sorry," Alec muttered. He wouldn't have gone on this little expedition if he had known he'd need to keep up a conversation. Isabelle had tried talking to him a few times yesterday, ostensibly out of concern for her brother's mopey state, but he'd shut her down. "If you want to talk _that_ badly, then you can tell me about your boyfriend."

He didn't know why he'd said it. Maybe because, in the back of his mind, he'd been terribly curious ever since Benjamin had intimated that he'd had one; maybe because he just wanted to make the other boy angry enough to leave him alone. He should've known it would take more than that. Benjamin merely blinked, then said, "Do you really want to know? It's a long story, and I talk too much, so there'll probably be a lot of unnecessary details involved. And if I tell you, you can't talk about it to anyone else." He paused. "You may be the only person I _can_ tell."

If he was trying to catch Alec's attention, he was succeeding. "I know how to keep my mouth shut."

"Good."

Benjamin said nothing more until they reached the park. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Central Park wasn't empty - it was never empty - but still Alec found a fairly secluded bench where they were unlikely to be interrupted. Benjamin sat down next to Alec, folding his legs beneath him, twisting a button on his coat. "I suppose," he began, "it really starts with my father."

Jace would've made a crack about not realizing it was _that_ kind of a story. Alec wisely did not. He kept quiet and waited.

"He's… old-fashioned, I think, would be the nicest way of putting it. Lots of archaic views on the Accords and Downworlders and such. I told you I was five during the Uprising - that was probably about the time he decided he was going to school me himself instead of sending me into the city like he'd done with my sisters and Hodge. Not because he thought they were picking up all sorts of unsavory notions, mind you, he completely agreed with Valentine's philosophy. He just thought Valentine went wrong with the Uprising. Didn't have enough support, was too overt, whatever. I've never asked. He was only so angry with Hodge because he'd been caught and arrested not long after he left the battle."

_Not long_, Alec thought. It had been longer than he believed, but there was no way Benjamin could've known what Hodge had done with Celine Herondale's unborn baby.

Benjamin sighed. "So I was kept at home, isolated, and fed my father's beliefs without input from anyone else. My mother had left not long after I was born. I never knew anything but what my father told me - Downworlders were nothing more than unnatural abominations and it was our job to put them down, Shadowhunters were the superior race, et cetera. The only friends I had were the children of some of my father's friends, people who agreed with him on all counts, and I never liked them very much. And when I got older, and started venturing into Alicante on my own… well, I was obnoxious and unbearable, so nobody liked _me_ very much, and I convinced myself it was because I was right and they were wrong. Then…." The side of his mouth rose in that almost-smile again. "I was nineteen when I met him. His name was Etienne Mayfield."

"Mayfield?" Alec frowned. His mother knew someone named Mayfield, but he didn't recall who. "I've heard that name before."

"I thought you might have. His father was your mother's brother, and he had his other sister - Marguerite Mayfield - adopt his sons so they would be raised as Shadowhunters."

_Oh_. Alec knew about his uncle, in the vaguest possible sense - he'd left the Clave and married a mundane and, apparently, brought shame upon the family. Marguerite's name was only slightly more recognizable to him, as his mother had spoken of her once or twice. He'd been aware she had children and he thus had cousins, but he had never met them, or even known how many there were. Alec had always been under the impression that Maryse did not like her sister very much.

"Anyway," Benjamin continued, "he was about a year older than me, and he looked… well, like I said, so much like you it hurts to look at you. And we absolutely hated each other. Oh, yes," he said when Alec glanced at him, startled, "he thought I was a stubborn, self-centered asshole - which I was - and I was certain he was a complete idiot who only _thought_ he knew everything. We worked in the same place. _Could_ _not_ get away from each other, fought every time we were in the same room.

"Eventually, though, I stopped shouting over him whenever he tried to get me to see his point of view. Once I did that, I started actually listening, and I began understanding exactly how _disturbing_ my racist teenage ideology was. There are staunchly-traditionalist Shadowhunters who would've found my extreme positions appalling. I learned, I changed, I got better… and then came the day I realized I was stupidly in love with him."

"Yeah," Alec murmured, resting his chin on his hand and smiling faintly, "I remember that moment." Standing in the Hall, surrounded by Shadowhunters and werewolves and vampires and fae, sketching the Alliance rune on Magnus's hand…. _We're probably going to die_, he'd thought, _and he's never going to know how much I love him_. So he'd grabbed him around the neck - Magnus had looked a bit alarmed for an instant - and kissed him in front of every surviving influential member of the Clave without giving a _damn_ about the consequences.

"I'm pretty sure I ran away while he was in the middle of a word. I went home and… well, totally lost it for a while. Given the sort of things my father taught me, you can imagine what I'd internalized about homosexuality."

That sounded painfully familiar too. Admittedly, Alec had been twelve when he realized what he was, but he'd locked himself in his bedroom, had the worst panic attack of his entire life, and began having nightmares about his parents disowning him that recurred for the next six years. "But… you got over it."

Benjamin nodded. "Mostly because of Etienne. He deserved a medal for putting up with me back then. But yes, I got over it. When it finally occurred to me that he put up with me _because_ he loved me as much as I loved him, we…" He coughed, pressing his fingers to his mouth, and Alec saw that he actually looked rather embarrassed. "I'll just leave it at 'we got fired'. I moved out of my father's house not long afterwards - he was furious, but our relationship had been going downhill for… basically my entire life. I didn't tell him why I was leaving, of course. We never told anyone. Obviously, my father would disapprove. I didn't particularly care if he disinherited me, but he _was_ still my father. Etienne wasn't sure about his parents, he wasn't willing to risk it just yet, and I had no place asking him to do otherwise."

_I know someone who could have benefitted from that attitude_, Alec thought dryly. "So… you've never told anyone else about you and him except… me?" he asked.

"Yes. We didn't even tell Etienne's brother Nicolas - they were close, but Nicolas has a big mouth. It didn't matter, we were _happy_ -" Benjamin broke off. "And then he died," he whispered.

"I'm -"

"He didn't die," Benjamin corrected himself. "He was killed. By a Shadowhunter."

Thrown out of the story, Alec blinked, turned to look at him. "Wait, what? Who killed him?"

"I don't know. You were at Brocelind Plain, weren't you?" Alec nodded. "So were we - myself, Etienne, Nicolas, their sister Victoire - we were… kind of late, though, so we missed the whole thing with the Alliance rune. But that's not really important. We ended up in the fray. Something sliced my back open, and it _burned_ - I found out later that I'd been poisoned. I was standing there surrounded by demons and Downworlders and death and Raziel knows what else, and Etienne was coming up to me, because he realized I'd been hurt - and suddenly he stopped. He stopped and I watched as a blade burst out of his chest." Before, when Benjamin had been talking about Etienne, his voice had carried a distinctly affectionate tone, but now he sounded completely detached. It was as if he was telling a story that had happened to people he cared nothing about. "He fell and I - I think I screamed - and there was a Shadowhunter behind him, holding that sword.

"He looked at me, and he smiled.

"I must've passed out after that, because next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital. Etienne was dead. He'd been murdered by someone who should've been fighting alongside him and no one would listen to me when I told them. Even his _family_ - they thought I was mistaken, or hallucinating, or that it had been an accident in all the chaos - but why would they listen? Who was I? Just someone Etienne had talked to a few times - they didn't know about us. And I hadn't seen the man clearly, either. He was young, like us, and he had a scar on his neck, but that's all I can remember. Nobody knew who he was." Benjamin swallowed audibly and pressed his lips together. "Eventually, I left. I couldn't stand being there anymore. I came here and I thought maybe I could just forget and move on."

Alec hugged his knees to his chest and gnawed at his lip and tried, for a moment, to pretend that it had been Magnus instead. If Magnus had died at Brocelind Plain… he _couldn't_ picture it. Perhaps his mind was trying to protect him. Magnus had squeezed his way into Alec's heart, splashed glitter paint on the walls of his atria, settled in like he'd always been there and Alec was only just now noticing him. Alec did not want to live a life without the warlock in it.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, because there were no other words to say.

"I imagine I'll run into that man again someday," Benjamin said. "And when I do, I'm going to kill him."

Alec glanced at him. Benjamin's fingers were fisted in his coat so tightly they shook, the knuckles white, the rune on the back of his left hand standing out like a brand. It was the closest thing to real emotion Alec thought he'd ever seen from him.

"That sounds reasonable enough."

"I did think you'd understand." At once, Benjamin relaxed into his usual unflappable state, smoothing the creases in his coat. "I knew I could tell you."

Nodding, Alec ran his fingers through his wind-rumpled hair. "Thank you. For telling me, I mean. I…." He trailed off, tried to put his thoughts into words. "I read a lot," he finally said. "There's always romance. And there's always one boy and one girl and nothing but."

Benjamin hummed agreeably. "Such is life, I suppose, or at least that's what everyone would have us think," he said, and he stood. "Come on, let's go back. I'm freezing. I can't feel a thing." He started walking without waiting for Alec, and for a second, Alec just watched him, wondering if he'd meant that literally or figuratively. Then he got to his feet and followed.

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I know, not a lot going on in this one. If you want the plot-advancing chapter ten on Monday, you know what to do! :D


	11. Chapter Ten

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **And we are back to the action! Lots of interesting questions and suspicions about Benjamin in the reviews from last chapter... but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see what he's all about.

Enjoy this one. Everything is downhill after this.

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**Chapter Ten**

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"Large caffe latte with as many shots of espresso as I could conceivably fit in there?"

"Thank you," Alec said, taking the warm paper cup from the girl behind the counter. She gave him a wink through impossibly long eyelashes and turned back to her work.

Brooklyn, to Alec, was one of those things about New York City he thought he could do without, and hipster dens like this were the reason. He'd left the Institute earlier this afternoon with plans to go to Magnus's, apologize, and hope Magnus didn't request an explanation for his behavior, but chickened out once he'd gotten off the subway. He had walked around for a bit until he realized he was so tired that the past hour was a complete blank. His search for caffeine had led him here, into this little coffeeshop where every single patron was wearing a beret. Maybe it had a dress code. Feeling uncomfortable at his conspicuous lack of homemade knitwear or giant glasses, Alec scuttled into a seat in a secluded corner that would hopefully not draw any attention to him.

"Oh, hey!"

So much for that. When he looked over his shoulder, however, he saw Maia approaching him with a plastic box in her hands. Her sweatshirt read **SORRY, BUT YOUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE!** in white block letters. "Hi," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I come here a lot, actually, it's pretty close to the police station." She leaned against the wall next to him and glanced around the room. "Not really their target demographic, but they make great sandwiches. The coffee's terrible, though." Her gaze alighted on the untouched cup in front of him and she winced. "Oh."

Alec looked at his coffee, then at her. "_How_ terrible?"

"I'm pretty sure it ate my spoon once."

He popped the plastic top off with a feeling of foreboding. Someone had drawn a happy face on the side of the cup - it was smirking at him. There didn't _seem_ to be anything overtly wrong with his coffee, and he'd already paid for it…. Trying not to imagine what his stomach lining might look like after he drank it, he said, "You can sit down, if you want," and took a gulp. It was too hot to taste.

"Well, you've survived the first ten seconds, that's a good sign," Maia said, after a few moments rolled by and Alec hadn't gone into convulsions. "And thanks, but I can't stay long. Simon invited me to watch his band play tonight."

"Simon's band sucks," Alec said before he could stop himself. Claiming he needed more 'culture' in his life, Isabelle had dragged him along to one of Simon's gigs last month and forced him to sit through the entire set. He was still waiting for an apology.

"I know. I brought earplugs. They're smaller and more discreet than headphones." She was grinning, but slowly, the expression faded and she began to pick at the price tag on her box. "So… have you found out anything about that little girl yet?"

Alec winced. "No."

"Nothing at all?"

He shook his head, traced his finger around a circular coffee stain on the wooden table. "Only that she might have known whoever killed her."

Wrinkling her nose, Maia gave the sandwich in the box a distasteful look and said, "Well, whoever it was, I hope she got the chance to bash that asshole in the head a few times."

"It probably wouldn't have done much good," Alec said, sipping at his coffee. As it cooled, it was gradually starting to taste more and more like a drink made by the bastard child of Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks. "She didn't have a weapon."

"She was holding a rock."

"A rock?" Alec repeated. He frowned down at the table. A rock, or…? Abandoning his coffee, he opened his satchel, dug through the mess inside, found what he was looking for rolling around at the bottom. He held it up wordlessly.

Maia scrutinized Alec's witchlight. "Yeah, like that, I guess. I didn't really look too closely."

"Thanks." Alec leapt to his feet, threw his cup in a nearby trash can, and headed for the exit.

"No problem," Maia called after him, sounding completely flabbergasted.

The bells over the door hadn't even stopped jingling before Alec had his phone out and was dialing the Institute. It rang nine times, and Alec was about to hang up and try calling his mother's cell when there was a _click_ and his father said, "Hello?"

"Did Alanna have a witchlight?"

"What?" Robert said. He sounded like maybe he was getting frustrated with Alec's habit of blurting out questions or comments pertaining to the case with absolutely no prior context.

"I was talking to Maia," Alec said, dodging a couple on the sidewalk who were so entwined he'd initially mistaken them for one person. "She said Alanna was holding a rock, but I think it was actually a witchlight."

"She… she _did_ have a witchlight, I believe, now that you mention it." He paused. "And I know where you're going with this - you want the warlock to use the same spell he used on the bracelet so you can get into her memory again."

Alec rolled his eyes at 'the warlock', but let it go. "Yeah, exactly. If she was holding it while she died, maybe I can see who killed her. Do you have it?"

"No, I think the Silent Brothers took it when they brought her body down to the City." There was a papery shuffling sound. "I'll contact them tonight and see if they can give it to us. With any luck, we'll have it tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll ask Magnus about doing the spell."

It wasn't until he hung up that Alec realized what he'd just volunteered to do. He rubbed his sore eyes - he had _such_ a headache - took a deep breath, and headed for Greenpoint. He very firmly did not let himself think about what he was doing, even while he climbed the stairs to Magnus's apartment. Still, as he turned the key in the lock, he hoped Magnus wasn't _too _angry - after all, in their relationship, fighting and one-sided silent treatments were basically par for the course. _Bet that's not healthy_, he thought, pushing the door closed before Chairman Meow could make a run for it.

Magnus came skidding into the room on socked feet, spotted Alec, and _lit up_. Noticing the warlock's rainbow-rhinestone-studded shirt, Alec couldn't help but compare him to the giant Christmas tree that decorated Rockefeller Center every December. "Um," he said, "hey. I… kind of need your help."

"Yes, you do. Have you seen your hair?" Magnus asked, and Alec's hand self-consciously flew to his windblown hair. "I'm joking, darling, you look fabulous. Come on, I was reorganizing the bathroom. It's not glamorous, but it desperately needed doing." He beckoned Alec to follow him. "Have a seat, I'll only be a minute."

Alec shed his jacket and dropped onto the bed while Magnus bustled around in the bathroom. The marshmallowy layer of blankets on the mattress was calling his name, begging him to cuddle in and just close his eyes for a few years. He'd been skirting around the nightmares in the only way he knew how - not sleeping at all. Maryse, who was finally beginning to feel better, had expressed concern this morning that she'd gotten him sick, which told him exactly how bad he looked.

"All right." Magnus emerged from the bathroom, dusting off his hands, and sat down next to Alec, just far enough away that their thighs didn't touch. "Talk to me."

Alec looked at the chasm between their legs. _Yesterday I saw what I could become if I lost you_, he wanted to tell him. _I tried to imagine life without you and I literally couldn't_. "About the other day," he said, fiddling with the edge of the comforter and trying to recall what he'd recited in his head the whole way over, "I'm sorry. It was a rough night and I… just sort of snapped." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "I have this nightmare, and it _isn't real_, but I had trouble distinguishing it from reality for a little while, and I took it out on you."

Magnus's hand settled over his own. "No, you didn't," he said gently. "To be honest, I think you reacted very understandably."

Alec shrugged. "That's not the point." He looked at Magnus's fingers, darker than his own but about the same size and length, and turned his hand over so they rested in his palm. "Listen, I don't want to talk about the nightmares. And I know this is going against your nature, but I'd really like it if you didn't ask, for now."

"All right," Magnus said. "I'll lay off. For now," he added, which was what Alec had expected. "Now, what did you need my help with?"

Relieved, Alec swung his legs up onto the bed and lay back against the pillows, finally letting his weary body relax. "Alanna was carrying a witchlight when she died." He took his own out of his pocket and displayed it to Magnus. "My father's going to get it back from the Silent Brothers. Can you use that spell you used on her bracelet? I might be able to see whoever killed her."

"It would need to have some significance to her," said Magnus, who had turned around and was absently tracing the runes on Alec's arm.

"It should," Alec replied. "All Shadowhunters carry witchlights. Before we're old enough to be Marked and use a stele, they're kind of like a symbol of being Nephilim. I've had mine since I was six."

"Then it should work. When do you want me to do the spell?"

"Not until tomorrow, I think my father said."

"Morning? I have a job at about noon, but I can cancel if you need me to."

"No, it should be pretty early. I don't think the Brothers sleep."

"Consider it done, then." Magnus ran a finger down the inside of Alec's arm, his touch light as the brush of a feather. "Why was she holding the witchlight? She was killed in a park in the middle of the day, yes? I can't imagine she was trying to get a better look at her attacker."

Alec considered this, rolling his witchlight around in his palm. Then he lifted it and tapped it against Magnus's forehead. "Bonk."

Magnus leaned back out of reach and smiled. "Why are you bonking me in the head with a stone?" he asked - and then realization visibly dawned. "You think she hit him with it."

"I think she didn't want to die," Alec murmured, "and she used the only weapon she had available to her." He put his witchlight back into his pocket, sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. "I won't blame you if you charge us for this. I feel like I take advantage of you sometimes."

"Don't be ridiculous. I do it because I love you, Alec, and because this obviously means a lot to you."

Of course it meant a lot to him, he thought. Alanna had been a child, barely older than Max and even more violently murdered, and Alec felt like he'd failed her even though there was no possible way he could have prevented her death. If he found out who had killed her, maybe he wouldn't feel so guilty anymore. _And doesn't that sound selfish of me._

"But," Magnus went on, poking Alec's cheek until he refocused his eyes and looked at him again, "if you really feel the need to repay me, you can make some bread."

"Why?"

"Because you make absolutely wonderful bread," Magnus said brightly.

Alec threw an arm over his eyes - none of the lamps were lit and it was quite overcast outside, but his head was aching so badly that even the smallest ray of light sent prickles of pain needling into his skull. "Sometimes I think you just use me for my cooking skills, Magnus."

"That's not true. I also use you for your body."

Despite himself, Alec laughed. Trust Magnus to turn his own words back on him.

The evening passed quietly and uneventfully, unless one counted Chairman Meow casually hacking up a hairball on the bathroom floor which Alec didn't notice until he stepped on. Barefoot. At least he'd already been heading for the shower. Magnus's 'reorganization' meant that absolutely nothing was where it had been three days ago, and Alec was tired enough that he nearly shampooed his hair with glittery body wash. He went to bed feeling like he'd dodged a bullet.

Magnus got up and left the room at two-forty-five, suddenly and without explanation. Alec was well used to this by now - occasionally Magnus would leap out of bed in the dead of night, on the verge of some genius magical breakthrough, and not return for hours, if at all. Alec took this opportunity to steal his blankets. However, to his surprise, Magnus came back after about fifteen minutes and shook Alec's shoulder. Usually when he did this, it was because he wanted Alec to be a human laboratory rat.

Last time that happened, Alec had buried his face in the pillow and mumbled, "No. Whatever it is, no." He didn't want to be blue, or radioactive, or a unicorn. He wanted to be asleep.

"I suppose I'll wait until you go back to sleep, then."

"I will end you if you experiment on me while I'm asleep."

"But Alec," Magnus protested, "you have no idea what I've discovered! I need a guinea pig. I could push magical theory forward a hundred years!"

"And professional ethics backward about a thousand. Go away."

Magnus had huffed and flopped down next to Alec, muttering something about how difficult it was to find decent test subjects nowadays. Keeping that incident in mind, Alec warily said, "What?"

"Wake up." Magnus prodded his arm. "I made you something."

That was less worrying than Magnus's typical middle-of-the-night requests, and Alec could smell food. He rolled onto his back to see Magnus looking quite pleased with himself and holding two round dishes. Yawning, Alec sat up. "What is it?" He was handed a fork and a dish in response, the latter of which he peered into, blinking sleepily, until he recognized the doughy cubes inside. "…I made you bread, and you turned it into pudding?"

"Microwave bread pudding is my specialty," Magnus said, sticking his fork into his dish.

Alec scooped up a square of bread and watched the steam rise and dissipate. "You know, Jace would probably call this whole situation disgustingly soppy."

"Hey." Magnus waved his fork at Alec. "If he wouldn't wake Clary up at three o'clock in the morning because he made her bread pudding in the microwave, he doesn't really love her."

Alec hadn't been asleep, but it was the thought that counted, and the pudding _was_ good, if a bit bland. "What did you put in this?"

"Bread, obviously. Eggs, milk, vanilla, some cinnamon on top, that's all."

"It needs something else," Alec said. He had a natural impulse to criticize, honed through a lifetime of being the eldest sibling. "Fruit, maybe. Or chocolate."

"You're allergic to chocolate."

"I didn't mean for _me_. It needs more flavor in general." Alec had been about seven when Maryse took it upon herself to teach her son how to cook. At the time, Alec hated it, more interested in his books and his cat and his little bow than finding out how much olive oil went into spaghetti sauce. Now that he was older, he realized that all those afternoons he'd spent with her were actually some of his most cherished childhood memories. Thus, even the things Alec didn't know how to cook, he could generally figure out for himself, while the NYPD considered Isabelle a domestic terrorist every time she turned on the stove. Maryse had been convinced her daughter would be trapped in the kitchen if she knew what she was doing in there. Alec had no idea _who_ she thought would be keeping Isabelle trapped in the kitchen - not her family, certainly. Perhaps Maryse had envisioned a controlling husband, but the number of men in the world who could control Isabelle numbered about zero.

"Noted." Magnus set his empty dish aside and gave Alec a searching look. He reached up, cradled Alec's cheek in his hand. "You really should try to sleep for a while."

Alec just shook his head and finished off the pudding.

"Oh, here -" Leaning across him, Magnus opened the nightstand drawer, pawed through its contents, and came up with something familiar - Alec's butterfly knife. "I found it while I was tidying up yesterday. Do me a favor and try not to insert it into my throat, okay?"

Alec stared at the blade for a long time. Slowly, he held out his hand, and Magnus placed the folded knife into his palm and closed his fingers around it.

In the morning, they tumbled out of bed to the sound of Alec's ringtone; Robert was calling to let Alec know he'd received Alanna's witchlight. It was almost eight o'clock. Alec stumbled into his jeans, yanked a sweater on over the only t-shirt Magnus owned that wasn't neon or sparkly, and hopelessly snarled his shoelaces when he tried to knot them. Avoiding Magnus's gaze, he dug three ibuprofen tablets out of his satchel and swallowed them dry in the kitchen before they headed for the subway. He wished he could sleep. Insomnia was like a nightmare - except instead of waking up and realizing everything was okay, he woke up and woke up and woke up and knew he'd never been asleep at all.

"Alec," Magnus said, smoothing Alec's hair out of his eyes, "this is our stop."

"My head hurts," Alec said, apropos of nothing, and stumbled out of the subway car.

The Institute library wasn't empty when they arrived - Benjamin was huddled in an armchair, eyes half-lidded, looking as if he'd gotten about as much sleep as Alec had (which was to say, none at all). Maryse drifted in shortly after and sat in the desk chair. Even Isabelle showed up when she realized something interesting was going on. "What are you two doing?" she asked, leaning against the fireplace and watching Alec and Magnus pass Magnus's phone back and forth.

"I don't know what _he's_ doing," Alec said, moving his rook clear to the other side of the board, "but I'm winning."

Isabelle wandered closer and peered over Magnus's shoulder as he looked at the screen despairingly. "Oh," she said. "If you'd asked, any one of us would've told you not to play chess with Alec. He's a beast. Even _Hodge_ quit playing with him, eventually."

"I won five-hundred and thirty-seven times over about eight years," Alec recalled fondly, curling up in his chair. "He said his losing streak was making him suicidal."

"Can I just resign now while I still have three pieces left and retain a tiny bit of my dignity?"

"No."

At that moment, the door creaked open again. Alec sat up straight as his father walked inside, the very small bag he carried dwarfed by his massive hand. Magnus jumped to his feet. Robert's face held no expression as he gave the bag to Magnus; the warlock thanked him and came back over to Alec. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he said softly. "You may very well be stuck in her head while she's murdered."

Alec swallowed and glanced around - he'd not expected to be doing this with an audience - but he nodded nevertheless. Giving him a faint, reassuring smile, Magnus opened the soft black bag and tipped Alanna's witchlight into Alec's palm.

It was just a witchlight, almost identical to Alec's. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. "Do it. I need to see who killed her."

"I really hope it wasn't me," Benjamin murmured from his corner. Everyone's heads swiveled to look at him. He pursed his lips. "Oh, don't, I know perfectly well you've all suspected me at one point or another."

"Why didn't you ever just say 'I didn't kill her'?" Isabelle asked reasonably.

"I thought it might be a bit suspicious if I brought it up unprovoked."

"All right," Magnus interrupted, "it'd be best if you were all quiet now."

Alec closed his hand around the stone, catching his lower lip between his teeth as he shut his eyes. Magnus's hands covered his own. _Wait_, Alec wanted to shout, _wait,_ _don't do it yet, I'm not ready_ - but a sudden rush of dizziness rocked the world, and then the memory swallowed him.

* * *

Chapter eleven, much like chapter eight, filled me with vicious glee as I wrote it. Revelations abound! Drop me a review, let me know what you think, and I'll post eleven on Wednesday!


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

Um... really, really vague references to rape, I suppose. Probably nothing triggering, but I like to be safe.

**Notes: **JFC, from some of the reviews I'm getting, I think you guys ought to be writing mystery novels. xD A couple people have suggested really interesting plot twists... unfortunately, none of them will be happening in this fic, because I'm not that clever.

This chapter's fairly short, compared to the others, but a lot happens nevertheless. It also contains a criminal amount of italics abuse. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

It was _cold_.

When she'd slipped into her skirt and blouse in the bathroom, trying not to knock her elbows into the towel rack or the bottles on the counter so she wouldn't wake her parents and Lily, she had anticipated that it might be colder here than it was at home. But her jacket was in the closet, so she just shrugged on a sweater - her favorite, the one with wide, pastel yellow-and-green stripes.

She couldn't see the stripes anymore. There was so much blood. It clumped in her hair, her eyelashes, flooded her mouth, dripped from her arms and legs like rain. The cold metal blade kissed her cheek again; she jerked her head away and whimpered, soundlessly. He had brought her here, he had promised to show her this place, just like he'd said in the letter - when she'd screamed (_what are you doing stop it hurts don't hurt me please_), he'd snarled and slapped her across the face and sketched a rune on her shoulder. Her first.

- _oh_ -

The knife wandered down her chest, parting the soft fabric as though it was water. She kept her eyes squeezed closed. The tears leaked out despite herself - her father had always told her she was brave, she was a _Shadowhunter_, she'd rescued her baby sister once when Lily fell into the frozen pond at the state park. She'd never felt less brave. He had taken the knife to her legs, first, cut into the backs and she couldn't move her legs properly anymore.

- _sliced Achilles tendons, there's no way she could walk after that -_

And then her stomach, her face, her arms…. Somewhere, not far off, she could hear people, and even after the rune she'd tried to scream for them. _Help me, please, he's hurting me, he's going to kill me, help me, please help me_. "There's no one coming for you," he had said, watching her lips move. "It's just us." He'd jabbed the knife sharply into the underside of her arm, but her entire body had already coalesced into a shapeless mass of agony, and it was no more painful than anything else he'd done.

Now he spoke again, touching bloody fingers to her jaw. "Look at me."

Her lips formed the word _no_. The blade played, teasingly, beneath one of her fingernails.

- _open your eyes, please, I need to see -_

"_Look_ at me," he hissed, and grabbed her chin, jerked her head to face him. Her breath left her lungs in a silent cry. Slowly, painfully, she cracked open her eyes.

It really was a beautiful spot he'd brought her to. A hidden little place in the tangle of bushes, unseen from the outside, carpeted in springy grass. Above her, black tree branches stabbed at the grey sky like skinny fingers.

He leaned over her, close, dark brown hair spilling into her face, spinning the knife in his hand. She couldn't look at his eyes, and her bleary gaze fell from the smear of blood on his forehead, where she had pounded her witchlight until he'd slashed her arm so deeply she couldn't lift it, to a thin, pale line on his throat.

He was smiling. He hadn't stopped smiling since she'd met him hours ago.

"You know why I'm doing this," he said, and he brought the knife down.

Something thunked against the floor, bounced once, twice, and rolled away. It took Alec a couple of seconds to discover he'd dropped Alanna's witchlight. He was still sitting in the library. The park had vanished into thin air. His brain grabbed onto whatever details were clearest, trying to ground him back in reality - the warm weight of Magnus's hand between his shoulder blades, the crackling of the fireplace, a purple-bound book sandwiched between two lemon-yellow ones. His lip was throbbing. When he touched his shaking fingers to it, they came away stained with blood. A coppery tang burst across his tongue.

He didn't realize he'd launched himself out of the chair and crossed the room until he was fumbling with the heavy doorknob - two people called his name in unison, but he ignored them. As soon as he was out of sight, he ran.

He made it as far as the sink in his bathroom before throwing up.

Once his stomach was achingly empty, once he was dry-heaving and bringing up nothing more than sour dribbles of bile and acid, Alec buckled against the wall, slid to the floor. A few towels came down with him. His mind was wheeling in the stratosphere, detached by the stark, awful truth of what had happened to Alanna Ashdown - it kept taking his thoughts and distorting them before throwing them back. _He held her down - he held me down. He incapacitated her - he incapacitated me. He silenced her - he silenced me. He hurt her - he hurt _me -

A keening wail burst from his lips. Desperately seeking an anchor, Alec swung blindly, slammed his fist against the side of the bathtub. The pain that exploded across his knuckles and sent a shockwave rattling up his arm pulled him back down to Earth again for a moment, just long enough to shout at himself _he did _not_ hurt you, he hurt Alanna, it's just her memory, he never did anything to you! _ Then he was gone again. He couldn't think anymore. His mental landscape had been blown clean, buried in a sandstorm that terraformed pristine peaks and valleys where his memories once were. He thought he could feel the sand beneath his hands, soft and fine rather than gritty, and it fell through the cracks between his fingers like waterfalls. "I'm going crazy," he said out loud; the words echoed against the dark wood cabinet below the sink. "I'm going crazy." It wasn't a bad sort of crazy, however - the panic was still there, bright as the moon behind a cloud, but muted. As long as he stayed here in the empty, featureless corner of his head, he wouldn't have to deal with it.

_Deal with what? _he wondered suddenly. _What am I hiding from?_

A tendril of thought poked its head out of the sand, prodded his brain. _It was him._

"I know," Alec said, surprising himself with the acknowledgement. He wished he could fall asleep and never wake up. _Maybe I'm already asleep, _he thought wistfully. _ Maybe that's why I can't _fall_ asleep - I'm already in the nightmare and I'm going to wake up soon._

_Why didn't I realize? I should've known. It's so obvious._

_Because you're sunk so deep in denial you might actually be emerging out the other side_, he answered himself. _You know you're in denial, and on some almost-conscious level, you know _why_. You were telling the truth when you told Magnus you could still feel those hands on you, but you forced yourself to believe it was only a nightmare. You shoved the monster back under the bed and pretended he had never existed. Well, now you know - he's real and he's alive and he tortured a little girl to death. You've been lying to yourself long enough. It's time to suck it up and deal with your shit._

"I can't." The words came out small and quavering. "I _can't_ - do you _know_ what he did to me?"

_Of course I do. I'm having this conversation with myself - which is pretty good evidence for me actually being crazy, by the way._ The voice - his voice, because really, he was just telling himself what he'd been trying to suppress all along - softened. _You have to accept it. This is _your fault_. You could've stopped him if you'd just _told_ someone instead of slapping a band-aid over a bullet wound and letting it fester. Alanna is dead _because of you_. You owe it to her to fix this. Now get up and find a way to stop that monster before he hurts anyone else._

_I don't know if I can._ It would be so easy to repress the memories again, though. Lock them back into their box, bury it, remind himself over and over that the nightmares were just nightmares and nothing had ever happened. He had managed to cope just fine all these years. If he let those demons have free rein over his mind now… well, he could just imagine how much worse everything would become. Not that the nightmares could actually _get_ any worse. And he already wasn't sleeping, had no appetite, kept fighting with Magnus more than he usually did, spent so much time convincing himself he was fine, time which could be put to better use.

No, nothing could get worse. And there was a dead child who needed what he'd learnt from her memory, and he was huddled uselessly in the bathroom having a breakdown instead.

_He hurt her._

_He hurt me._

Alec pressed his palms into his eyes until fireworks erupted behind his lids. _You're finally waking up_, he told himself.

Someone rapped on the door. "Alec? Are you all right, baby?"

That was Magnus. He was the only person who called Alec 'baby', and only did so when he was really worried. Alec frequently had mental arguments over whether or not he found it endearing or annoying. Wondering if his tendency to fight with himself had reached a logical extreme over the course of the past few minutes, he took his hands away from his face.

At some point, he found, he had tipped over onto the floor. He was curled up in a quivering ball, chest heaving behind his knees, cheek mashed against the chilly tiles, the towels he'd knocked down bunched awkwardly beneath his side. There was a dust bunny the size of an _actual_ bunny lurking sinisterly between the sink and the garbage pail. Alec's bathroom was neither as cluttered as Isabelle's nor as sterile as Jace's, though few places managed to achieve the cleanliness Jace visited on every room he lived in. When Jace had stayed with Magnus, he'd even alphabetically rearranged Magnus's spice rack - much to the warlock's frustration, as he had a system of organization that made sense to no one but himself.

"Alec, answer me or I'm coming in."

He wasn't bluffing, and Alec didn't really want Magnus to find him on the floor. Swallowing, grimacing at the disgusting film coating his mouth, he rasped out, "I'm all right. Just give me a minute," and began the arduous process of standing up.

"…if you're sure," Magnus said. Alec heard the bedsprings creak a moment later.

Clambering to his feet required almost all of the energy Alec had in his reserves. Once he managed it, he clung to the sink with his eyes shut, riding the head rush until it subsided, still nauseous enough that the sweeping vertigo nearly turned his stomach inside out again. His knees felt watery. His clammy skin crawled against the back of his sweat-soaked t-shirt. When he opened his eyes, his reflection was so white that the walls looked grey in comparison. He opened the tap, rinsed out the sink, and splashed ice-cold water over his face until the sting slapped some color into his cheeks and washed the blood from his lip. He'd done this a long time ago, Alec realized distantly, every morning, trying to make it look like he'd slept despite the purple shadows under his eyes. Wash his face and tame his hair and check if the bruises on his hips had faded from deep blue to yellow yet, _it's been two days, it's been three days, it's been four days, the worst part is over, now I can forget_.

Coughing wetly, he clapped a hand over his mouth and fought the need to retch again.

_Okay, that needs to not happen,_ he thought once the urge receded. _You can't start freaking out. Don't think about him, think about her._

"Alec?"

_Pull yourself together_. He gave his teeth a quick brush, turned off the faucet, the light, and walked out of the bathroom.

Magnus was sitting cross-legged on Alec's bed, guaranteeing he'd be finding glitter in every crevice of the comforter for the next six years, and idly playing with Olivia's collar again. When Alec stepped into his line of vision, though, he dropped it and scrambled off the mattress. "Are you okay?" he asked, hands fluttering up towards Alec's face. "You ought to sit, you look like you're about to faint. Or recently fainted."

Alec blinked at him. "I didn't," he said. He was, at least, reasonably sure he had been conscious the entire time.

Raising a thin eyebrow, Magnus nudged Alec into sitting on the bed anyway and said, "And you sound like you've thrown up."

"That I did do," Alec allowed, gratefully taking the bottle of water Magnus conjured for him.

Magnus sank down next to him and draped his arm around Alec's shoulders. Alec twitched slightly at the sudden contact, but it didn't kick up a fight-or-flight instinct, which pleased him. He wasn't a nervous wreck just yet. "Your mother made me give you about ten minutes to yourself before letting me come after you," Magnus said. "She terrifies me, I'll have you know." He rubbed his thumb in a small arc over Alec's collarbone. "Are you ready to go back, or…?"

"How long has it been?"

"Fifteen minutes or so. We all sat there dumbly for a while after you left."

Alec nodded, set the bottle of water aside, and stood. "Come on, then." _Before I lose my nerve._ He still felt sick and shaky and absolutely not prepared to face the facts Alanna's memory had revealed - or forced him to recall - but he needed to do this now. Magnus quickly got up and followed him out of the bedroom, touching Alec's back as if to remind him that Magnus was behind him, he was always right there behind him.

The library doorknob was very cold beneath his hand. Magnus's fingers burned through his t-shirt. Wishing he could be elsewhere, Alec opened the door.

He was certain, when they walked inside and heads turned to face him, that so many people had never seemed quite so interested in his arrival before. "Are you all right? What did you see?" Isabelle asked, flicking her hair over her shoulder, but Robert held up a hand to silence her and handed whatever he'd been reading back to his wife.

"Alexander," he said, in a gentle tone Alec hadn't heard from him since he was ten years old and shattered his collarbone falling from the ropes in the training room, "if you saw who killed Alanna, I need you to describe him as best you can -"

"I don't have to," Alec interrupted wearily, slumping against the closed door. "I know exactly who killed her."

"You do?" That was Benjamin, who had watched Alec through his eyelashes from the second he reentered the room, and now sat up straight, closing the book in his lap. "Who?"

"His name is Adam." Someone sucked in a breath - Isabelle, maybe, but it could have just as easily been his mother. "He's her brother."

* * *

Well then! Hands up if you saw _that_ coming - which you probably did, since I'm not very good at concealing these things. Anita, you can put your hand down. :b

Chapter twelve should be up Friday or Saturday. Please review, my darlings, I always appreciate it!


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **Um... I don't think I have anything interesting to say here today. So here's chapter twelve, wherein a few more things are revealed, the ever-so-loveable Diana Ashdown makes her glorious return, and Alec is too deeply in shock to really react to anything. It's better than denial... I think.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

The silence that cloaked the Institute was so brittle that everyone seemed afraid they would break it if they breathed too loudly. An hour ago, Maryse had telephoned Diana and Clark, telling them only that they believed they had discovered who killed their daughter, and asked them to come into the city. She was still seated behind the desk, although she was pale and gaunt and looked like a harsh wind might blow her over - perhaps she was remembering what had happened the last time Diana Ashdown set foot in the library. Robert sat in a nearby chair, staring off into space. They hadn't spoken to each other since agreeing the Ashdowns needed to be notified.

The rest of them didn't have to be there, but not a one of them had so much as glanced towards the exit. Isabelle was kneeling in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dwindle and prodding at them every so often with the poker; Benjamin was in an armchair, with a book before him that had been on the same page for over thirty minutes. Even Magnus hadn't moved from his spot behind Alec. He was not touching him, but if Alec tipped his head back, the warlock's fingers would brush against his hair.

For his part, Alec had fallen into the armchair by Benjamin's, drawn his knees up (giving no thought whatsoever to what his dirty boots might be doing to the upholstery), and traced the glass pattern on the floor with his eyes, again and again and again until the repetition settled him into a meditative state. He felt like he was covered in raw, open wounds that no one could see besides him. His neck itched as though it had been recently marked - every so often, he had coughed, just to make sure he could still produce sound, but then stopped when he realized his mother was giving him concerned glances.

Maryse gave a soft sigh and tapped Alanna's witchlight against the desk impatiently. After Alec had returned, she'd leaned down to pick up the stone from where it had rolled beneath her chair and asked Magnus to perform the spell again, this time on her. "I believe you," she'd said, looking to her son, "but I want to be absolutely confident before calling Clark and Diana."

Alec had merely nodded and curled further into his seat, not particularly caring whether she believed him or not, and closed his eyes as the familiar blue glow suffused Magnus's hands. When he opened them again, Maryse's lips were white. She'd set the witchlight down and very deliberately picked up the phone.

Finally, the doorbell tolled through the cathedral, and Robert stood. "Don't tell them anything yet," Maryse said. He gave her a dour frown, but left the room quietly nevertheless.

Diana Ashdown looked exactly the same as she usually did when she marched into the library. Behind her came her husband - a very tall man who always seemed diminished next to his more aggressive wife - followed closely by Robert, who closed the door and sat down again.

"Well?" Diana snapped before anyone could get a word in edgewise. "Out with it, who murdered my daughter? We've left Lily with a babysitter and I don't want her there overnight."

Maryse blinked, like that hadn't been _quite_ the greeting she'd expected. Alec thought it a little strange that Diana seemed more worried about Lily having to stay with her babysitter overnight instead of catching Alanna's killer. From the way Isabelle's dark brows drew together, she was thinking the same thing. Maryse cleared her throat. "This is going to be hard for you to hear," she said. "You may want to sit down."

Diana's lips twisted, but she threw herself into the single remaining chair nevertheless. Clark stood beside her, placed a hand on her shoulder, and said to Maryse, "Please."

She scooped up the witchlight and placed it in the middle of the desk where the Ashdowns could clearly see it. "Your daughter was carrying this when she died," Maryse explained. "The warlock used -"

"He has a name," Alec said loudly. He had zero patience right now for his parents' usual dismissal of his boyfriend.

Maryse gave him an acidic glare. "_Magnus Bane_," she stressed, "used a spell that allowed us to view Alanna's final memory." She paused for a moment, drew in a breath through her nose. "Your daughter was murdered by your son, Adam."

The only person in the room who was even remotely surprised by Diana's sharp bark of laughter was Benjamin, and Alec was pretty sure nobody aside from him saw the flicker of confusion. "Don't be absurd, Maryse," she said icily, crossing one leg over the other. "If you've brought me here because of a ridiculous falsehood -"

"I saw him," Alec interrupted. He pulled at a thread on the armrest, tilted his head just enough for Magnus's index finger to touch his hair. "He took her to a park, cut the tendons in her legs so she couldn't run, put a Quietude rune on her, and tortured her until she died. _I saw him_."

There was a moment when Diana's eyes were very wide, and he thought she might believe him, but then they narrowed again and she threw Maryse a dark look. "Is that your 'proof'?" she spat. "You're willing to simply take _his_ word for it? He's never liked Adam, you know that perfectly well."

Maryse stood, very slowly, and placed her hands on the desk. "Do you really mean to tell me you'll discount my son simply because Adam _once_ claimed Alec hit him, _four years ago_?"

_But I did hit him_, Alec thought. He'd punched him because Adam was a little shit who'd referred to Alec's twelve-year-old sister as a slut. Walking away, afterwards, he had rubbed his throbbing knuckles against his palm, wondering why Adam had such a solid jaw, and Jace burst into laughter.

"Very _good_," he'd said, patting Alec's shoulder. "I didn't think you had it in you. I've taught you well." He wandered into the kitchen, still chortling. Alec bit his lip, trying not to grin like an loon… and then the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

When he turned around, Adam stood at the other end of the hall. He'd watched the whole thing and, as Alec stared, he smirked ever so slightly before slipping away down another corridor.

"I think that's ridiculous, but fine," Maryse said. Brought back to the present, Alec slouched against the side of the chair and blinked tiredly as his mother continued. "However, _I_ also saw her memory, and I can promise you that events transpired exactly as Alec's recounted them."

Diana stood. "That is _nonsense_. I've no idea what game you're playing, Maryse, but this is my _son_ you're accusing of murder. He isn't even in New York anymore. Adam has been living in Idris with a friend for over a year."

"No, he hasn't."

It seemed to take everybody a second to realize it was Clark who had spoken - even Diana, who blinked, looked at him, shook her head, and said, "Of course he has. You've read his letters."

"I visited Nathanael Clearwater last time I was in Alicante." Clark sank down onto the chair Diana had vacated. "Adam doesn't live with him. He's never lived with him. I don't know where he's been living, or where he's been writing to us from."

Diana shook her head again. She was pale, but her voice did not waver when she said, "But he isn't here. He didn't do it. He would never have harmed Alanna."

"Never?" Clark's hands were white where they were clamped around his knees. "Do you honestly believe that, Diana? Do you not remember what he did to the cat? The birds? Remember when Ellie Harper's daughter claimed he lured her into the woods and touched her?" Something in the shadows of Alec's mind shrieked, like nails on a chalkboard - he pressed his back against the plush chair and wished it would consume him. _Don't think about it._ Clark's voice was rising steadily. "Alanna - she _was_ too young to remember that we couldn't leave him alone with her. We sent him to school in Idris to _keep him away from the girls!_ I know you want to protect him, Diana, but you _can not_ tell me he would never have hurt her!"

Isabelle's eyes were very wide. Benjamin was blank-faced, as usual, but he hugged his book to his chest as if it was a shield. Maryse and Robert were looking at one another, having some sort of silent conversation Alec couldn't understand. For their part, Clark and Diana had apparently forgotten they were not alone - she gaped at her husband, soundless, and he held her gaze.

"You _knew_ your son was a monster," Alec whispered. Clark's head swiveled to face him. There was nothing but grief and remorse in his eyes.

Abruptly, Diana spun back to the desk. "If what you say is true," she said, and her voice almost didn't tremble, "then prove it to me."

Maryse nodded, glanced at Magnus. He sighed, so slightly Alec was probably the only person who heard it, and stepped out from behind the chair. "Sit," he said brusquely. Clark jumped to his feet so Diana could have the chair and she sat, holding her hand out for the witchlight. "This won't be pleasant," Magnus cautioned before beginning the spell. This time, Alec kept his eyes open, dimly curious to see what he had looked like while reliving Alanna's memory. It wasn't nearly as interesting as he'd thought it might be - Diana's expression did not change in the slightest, though the lines at the corners of her mouth deepened as time ticked on.

He knew it was over when she cried out, eyes snapping open, and dropped the witchlight. A hand flew to her mouth. Clark immediately placed an arm over her shoulders, hugged her against his side, but she didn't seem to notice - her gaze was turned inward, staring at something only she could see. Not wanting to watch any more, Alec looked at Magnus, who perched unsteadily on the arm of Alec's chair. The strain of performing the psychometric spell three times in such a short duration had leeched the color from his face. Alec curled his fingers around Magnus's wrist.

"We need to find your son," Maryse said gently. There was no love lost between her and Diana, yet there was nothing but sympathy in Maryse's face now. "If you have anything of his we can use to track him -"

Diana's shaking hand fell away from her mouth. Her eyes were glassy with tears Alec knew she would not let fall in front of them. "We don't."

Robert raised his eyebrows. "You don't," he said, disbelieving.

"When he moved out last year, he took everything with him. What he didn't take, we… got rid of."

"What?" Isabelle asked. Maryse glared at her, but she brushed off the look as if it were merely an annoying insect. "Why?"

"It was just clutter," Diana said tightly.

Clark placed a hand over his wife's and looked around at them. "I don't believe we have anything of his that's trackable," he said, "but we will check. Just in case."

Nodding, Maryse said, "Thank you." Clark gently tugged Diana to her feet and began leading her towards the doors - Robert opened one for them and left to escort them out. "If you'll excuse me -" Maryse's gaze swept over the four of them, "I'm going to lay down for a while." She disappeared into the hallway, and just like that, they were alone.

There was a long moment when none of them spoke. Alec, who currently wanted nothing less than to be left to think, got up and crossed the floor. Alanna's witchlight had rolled to a stop against a bookshelf. He picked it up between two fingers, inspected it for a second, turned around.

"He wrote to her." His own voice sounded alien to his ears. "She didn't realize what he was, all she knew was that she'd get to see her brother. He probably told her he'd meet her the next time they came to New York, not to tell their parents or else Diana would never let her go. She snuck out, went to him, and he killed her. If he glamoured himself and silenced her, nobody would've noticed them." Something occurred to him then, and he frowned. "He must have been with her for _hours _before taking her to the park. What did he do with her that whole time?"

"Lulled her into a false sense of security just to make it worse, I bet," Isabelle said grimly. Alec, Magnus, and Benjamin all looked at her; she rolled her eyes. "This is not something you boys would really understand. Alanna was eleven, and she was a girl. She was a _pretty_ girl. She had maybe another year or two before guys would be all over her, and her mother would've known that. If she had any parenting skills at all - which, frankly, I'm starting to doubt - she told her daughter about men. The good ones, the sleazy ones, the ones who'd be nice to her just to get her into bed. And she _especially_ would've told her about the guys she didn't want to fuck with." Isabelle sighed and jabbed the poker into the fireplace again, though the fire had long since burnt out. "You see, there are boys whose eyes you look into and you _know_ they're dangerous - and not the good, exhilarating kind of dangerous, either. Those are the ones who you smile at and nod when they talk and then get the hell out of there as fast as you can, because those are the ones who'll end up killing you if you piss them off enough. It's not really something I worry about anymore, but I did when I was eleven." She took a slow, deep breath. "Imagine how afraid she must've been when she realized her own brother was exactly the sort of man her mother had warned her about."

Alec slumped into his chair, his palm damp where he was clinging to the witchlight. "I don't have to," he murmured.

Isabelle looked away. "I should have known that little creep was such a dick," she said suddenly. "He used to corner me in the hallways and say all this gross, disturbing shit."

Alec's head jerked up. "_What_?"

"He never actually _did_ anything, if that's what you're wondering, dear overprotective older brother of mine. After the third or fourth time, I threatened to tell Mom and he backed off." She smirked. "And I threatened him with a few other things, but I won't tell you about them because you delicate males are sensitive to that sort of stuff."

Ignoring the insult, Alec roughly rubbed a hand over his face. Isabelle mocked him for it, but he _was_ protective of her, regardless of whether or not she could protect herself. _He'd_ always thought he could protect himself, too. _And look where that got me_, he thought, resisting a wild urge to laugh. If he started, he would probably never stop.

"What I don't understand," Benjamin said quietly, "is why his parents tossed all of his belongings he didn't take with him."

Magnus, who had been gazing off at nothing for quite a while, bounced back into reality at that point. "It makes a lot of sense, actually. You heard his father - they knew damn well that Adam was a sociopath. Torturing animals and doing god-knows-what to his little sister does tend to predict that sort of thing. I don't know if they _instantly_ assumed he had killed Alanna," he said, seeing Alec's inquisitive look, "but I imagine it crossed their minds. That would explain his mother's defensiveness. They said they sent him away to school, presumably only saw him at holidays, and when he moved out, they attempted to erase every reminder of his existence. I can't blame them, to be honest - they probably just wanted to have a normal, uneventful life with their _sane_ children - but it doesn't help us any. Of course, this is all conjecture," he added. "I am not a psychiatrist. I don't even play one on television."

It _did_ make sense, though. Perfect, horrifying sense. The only piece of the puzzle that they were missing now - _why_ Adam had murdered his sister - was, unfortunately, the big, colorful piece smack in the middle.

Down the hall, the clock struck noon, and Magnus twitched. "Alec," he said, "I'm supposed to be in the Bronx right now - I have a client - but if you want me to stay, I will. I'm not sure I'll be able to work up enough magic to help her, anyway."

"No," Alec said, so quickly Magnus blinked at him. "You should go, I'll be fine. I sort of want to be alone for a while." He glanced over towards the fireplace, where his sister still sat. "Izzy, go away."

Isabelle huffed. "This is the _library_. It belongs to everyone in the house." Nonetheless, she stood and slid the fireplace poker back into its rack. "But I am feeling a need to go train and pretend I'm suffocating Adam with my whip - Benjamin, want to join me?"

"By the Angel, no," Benjamin said. "I'm afraid you might mistake me for your target."

"Suit yourself."

She sauntered out of the room. Benjamin made to leave as well, but he'd hardly left his seat when Alec said, "Wait. I want to talk to you."

Magnus stood up at that, brushing Church's fur off his jacket and buttoning it closed. Alec wondered if he was imagining the tighter set of his face. "Then I'd best be going, I'm technically already late. Call if you need me, love." He pressed a kiss to the top of Alec's head and left the room without a backwards glance, and Alec watched him go, faintly bewildered.

Benjamin lowered himself back down, but he didn't ask what Alec wanted him for, nor did Alec say anything. They sat quietly for a little while, Benjamin paging through his book again, Alec drawing invisible lines on the floor and absentmindedly calculating the angle between their chairs. He had a knack for that sort of thing - angles and trajectories and speed - which, Hodge had told him, was one of the reasons he was such a good archer. Then he'd made Alec practice for an hour every day so he wouldn't lose his edge.

"This Adam," Benjamin said suddenly, "you know him, don't you?"

"Yes," Alec said, lifting his gaze from the floorboards and looking at Benjamin, "and I think you do too."

Benjamin frowned slightly, shook his head. "I've never actually heard of him before today."

"The man who killed Etienne," Alec began. "You said he had a scar on his neck." He dragged his finger across the base of his throat. Benjamin, white-faced, watched him and nodded. "I _put_ that there. I didn't think of it before because -" _I'd managed to convince myself he was only a harmless jerk who'd never done anything to me_. "I wasn't trying to kill him," he finished, so quietly he almost couldn't hear himself. "I just didn't want him to hurt me."

Benjamin's fingers were tight around a page of the book, crumpling it; Alec distantly thought Hodge would've been furious if he had been there. "Did it work?"

Alec shook his head.

"How can you be sure it's the same person?"

"Obviously I can't, but…." Alec dug his teeth into his abused lip and immediately wished he hadn't. "Last time we met, Adam was violent and manipulative and liked hurting people, but I don't think he wasn't a murderer yet. He progressed to that afterwards." _Because what he did to me wasn't enough for him, maybe._ "If you're trying to find out if you have the ability to kill someone in cold blood… what better place to do it than a battle? Brocelind Plain was a melee. He wouldn't have had to worry about getting caught."

Releasing a long, slow, shuddering breath, Benjamin pulled his knees to his chest, buried his face in them, twisted his hands into his hair. Alec rolled Alanna's witchlight from one palm to the other. There was a tiny blob of what appeared to be blue nail polish on it.

"I want him dead," Benjamin said abruptly, lifting his head, his eyes dark and cold when they met Alec's.

"Get in line," Alec muttered.

"He murdered the only person in my life who's ever cared about me."

"_I_ care about you," Alec said, and as the words left his lips he realized they were true. He did like Benjamin very much, the way one liked their reflection even when the mirror was cracked. Benjamin just stared at him. Alec put the witchlight into the pocket of his jeans. That was two deaths on his conscience, he thought - Alanna's, of course, and probably Etienne's as well. Without another word, he stood and exited the library, allowed his feet to take him to his bedroom, crawled beneath every blanket he owned, and tried not to shake himself apart.

* * *

Chapter thirteen is about as fluffy and joyful and happy as this one, so please review and I'll get that up for you on Sunday! :D


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

There's a brief discussion of suicide in this chapter, just in case anyone's uncomfortable with that sort of thing.

**Notes: **Another lovely chapter of Alec being in shock... don't worry, he'll come out of it soon! (meaning, in the next chapter)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Alec crawled out of bed the next morning with the overwhelming, mouth-watering queasiness that generally predicted a few hours curled up on the bathroom floor and praying for God to grant the mercy of death. But his stomach had long since rejected its contents, and he had never really subscribed to any higher power beyond the vague Nephilim creation story that didn't strike him as _entirely_ factual, so nothing came of it. He just felt so sick he could hardly breathe, couldn't open his mouth without gagging, a heavy, nauseous weight sitting on the back of his tongue. If anyone had asked (and Alec thought he could answer without throwing up all over their feet), he would've speculated that he'd caught a virus. No one asked. Alec skirted around his family unnoticed, as insubstantial as a ghost. Nothing seemed quite real to him. Perhaps they were just trying to give him some room to process yesterday's ordeal, but the way everyone tiptoed by him just contributed to the unsettling feeling that he wasn't really there.

And maybe he wasn't. Maybe he _had_ died, all those years ago, and he'd been Adam's first victim in more ways than one. Maybe this was truly the horrible afterlife Alec had been condemned to because he'd earned some sort of eternal punishment.

"That's rather unlikely, don't you think?"

Someone had left an empty wineglass on the round little table next to Alec's chair. It was reduced to glitter in an instant when he jumped so violently he knocked the entire table over.

"Sorry," Benjamin said, seating himself in the other armchair by the fireplace, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Alec stared at him, trying to gulp down the sandbag on his tongue so he could form actual words, and finally rasped, "I wasn't talking to you."

"You weren't talking to anyone," Benjamin pointed out, "you were just sitting here mumbling about divine retribution and whatnot. I figured I'd interrupt before you said anything you didn't want overheard."

Closing his eyes, Alec let his head loll against the side of the armchair. "Who sent you?"

"Nobody. I was just making sure you were all right." Benjamin pursed his lips. "And that you weren't blurting out your darkest secrets or… cracking up or anything."

"I don't have any dark secrets," Alec said, making absolutely no effort to sound truthful. He suspected Benjamin had given their conversation from yesterday some thought and worked out a couple of things Alec wasn't certain he wanted him to know. "And I'm not cracking up." Just from the way everyone was looking at him today – that uncomfortable mixture of sympathy and pity and concern – Alec knew they all thought he wasn't handling Alanna's last memory well. It was annoying, but he saw no reason to tell them otherwise. His parents were busy with Clave business, anyway, now that they knew for certain who had killed Alanna, so why interrupt?

"You were _her_ when she died," Benjamin said softly. "No one's going to blame you for being upset by that."

Alec shook his head. "You don't get it." Alanna's torture had been hideous and drawn-out for the explicit purpose of providing her sociopathic brother with as much gratification as possible, but her actual death was mercifully quick. What was more difficult to swallow was her fear – her fear, and her resignation, once she'd realized there was nothing more she could do and she was going to die at the hands of the brother she had so wanted to connect with. "It wasn't that bad, really."

"Mm. Well, anyway, I'm fairly sure you're not dead and suffering though a miserable afterlife."

"How do you know?" Alec said, slouching in his seat. He didn't know if he actually wanted Benjamin's company or not. "Maybe you're dead too. You died on Brocelind Plain when you were poisoned, instead of Etienne, and he's actually the one mourning you."

"Ha-ha," Benjamin said flatly. "You're not _funny_."

Alec merely shrugged. "I wasn't trying to be." There was something bordering on hostile in Benjamin's eyes, though, so Alec murmured, "Sorry. That was a little out of line," and the other boy nodded and looked away.

The library was quiet for a while after that, each of them caught up in their own miserable thoughts. Alec gazed blankly at the ceiling, letting his eyes unfocus until he could almost fool himself into believing the wispy shadows hid Hugo. He'd never thought he'd miss that obnoxious raven, but the bird's absence was as jarring as Hodge's, sometimes. And nobody knew exactly what had happened to Hugo, either – Clary had said he'd attacked her in the Hall, but didn't recall seeing him again after that. Considering he'd turned out to be Valentine's raven, Alec wasn't actually entirely positive he wanted him back.

He turned his head and looked at the spray of glass fragments on the floor. That had probably been one of Maryse's glasses, and though Alec tried to dredge up some guilt, there was none left in his reserves. She could get another. It wasn't _irreplaceable_. The entire world felt a tad strange, he thought, drawing his knees up and resting his chin on them – like gravity was pulling a little bit harder now, or something else was just fundamentally _wrong_, something noticeable but impossible to pinpoint.

"I did think about it, honestly," Benjamin suddenly said. Alec glanced at him, but he was staring into the fire (which Alec had built to quell the chills that broke over him like waves) and didn't notice. "Dying, I mean, after Marie – that's Etienne's eldest sister – told me he was gone. I lived alone. I could slash my wrists and nobody would even notice until someone started to complain about the smell. But…." He plucked a few cat hairs off the arm of his chair and blew them from his fingers. "Hodge is dead. My sisters are so estranged from the family I've only met them twice. And I… I just couldn't do that to my father."

"I thought you hated your father."

Benjamin sighed. "It would be so much easier if I could. He's my _father_ – in some stunningly screwed-up way, he was trying to do what was best for me… or what he thought was best, at least."

Alec didn't have a reply to that, so he kept quiet. He'd never experienced any _serious_ suicidal impulses, but if he had, he doubted he would be too willing to talk about them. He preferred to bottle everything up until a time when he could come back and pour it out and absorb it without having a meltdown. Perhaps that was why he felt so off-balance now – Alanna's memory had shattered a bottle he'd not even realized he had until it spilled.

_Don't think about it_, he kept telling himself, but how could he not?

A stab of pain lanced through his stomach, and he bit his lip so he wouldn't groan out loud, digging his fingers in just above his navel. On top of feeling like throwing up all morning and never quite getting warm enough, his stomach was full of needles. His best efforts couldn't suppress a slight hiss, and Benjamin's brows knit. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Alec said through gritted teeth, hunching over until the worst of the pain softened.

"If you're going to be sick, would it be too much of me to ask you to do it elsewhere? I… have a phobia."

"I _said_ I'm okay."

"You're kind of green," Benjamin said. He sounded downright unnerved, which was novel, considering his habit of speaking in that disinterested monotone. Alec _felt_ kind of green – Magnus liked to describe things as colors in thoroughly illogical ways, like swearing blue Gatorade actually tasted blue, so it couldn't be too far off to assume that green was a sour, queasy feeling. And it wasn't nice to screw around with other peoples' phobias anyway, so he mumbled something about taking a nap and dragged himself out of the library.

His cell phone had rattled its way off the nightstand when Alec returned to his bedroom. He ignored it for the time being – he didn't feel like talking anymore, not even to Magnus – and flopped onto his bed. Once again, he wished Jace was here. Not that Jace could do anything. Not that Alec could _tell_ him anything, but they were parabatai, and Jace was as much Alec as Alec was Jace. It was like Jace had taken Alec's left arm with him when he'd gone upstate. Still, Alec wasn't about to interrupt his brother's vacation just because he was a little melancholy.

The phone vibrated again and again. Realizing he wasn't going to get any peace otherwise, Alec leaned over the edge of the mattress, picked it up, and said, "Hello?"

"Hi, baby," Magnus crooned.

In spite of the nausea, the spiking pains in his stomach, and the chills that were coming back now that he wasn't seated in front of the fire, Alec smiled slightly. "I'm instituting a new rule," he said, tucking the comforter around himself. "Unless I'm in serious distress, you're not allowed to call me 'baby'."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm eighteen years old and it's uncomfortable."

Magnus gave a dramatic huff, but conceded, "Fine, fine. How are you doing?"

"I'm all right," Alec said. After a moment, he added, "I don't feel very good," because he felt like he'd been lying to Magnus a lot lately and that little bit of honesty lessened the weight in his chest.

"You don't sound very good. Are you coming down with something?"

Alec drew the blanket over his head and said, "Probably," which promptly negated his previous truth. He wasn't sick and he knew it. He just wasn't ready to handle anything yet, and the stress of the last few weeks was taking its toll.

"Poor thing," Magnus said. "Unfortunately, I can't cure what I can't identify."

Nor could he cure what didn't really exist. The word _psychosomatic_ drifted across Alec's mind – Greek, at its roots, and basically meaning 'this is all in your head'. "I'll manage."

Magnus made a humming sound. "Have you slept? I think we're to the point where it'd be all right to try that sleep spell again, if you need it."

"Actually, I _did_ get some sleep," Alec said. Less than an hour's worth, but that was a start, and he had every intention of closing his eyes for a while once this call ended, nightmares be damned. He felt so awful. "And I'm going to take a nap now."

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

_I need you to take an eraser to my memories and rub away everything that's happened over the past two weeks or so._ "No, I'm fine."

"Okay. Have a good nap, darling. I love you."

It was far from the first time Magnus had told Alec he loved him, but it _was_ the first time the words wrapped around Alec's throat and choked him until he gagged. He pressed his knuckles to his lips, empty stomach clenching around thin air.

"Well, I didn't think my affections were _that_ revolting," Magnus said lightly.

"Sorry," Alec managed. His voice came out faint and quivering. He wanted to ask _are you still going to love me after you find out what I've been hiding from you? Are you still going to love me when you learn I'm a little more screwed up than you signed on for? And what's going to happen when you realize I'm indirectly responsible for the deaths of at _least_ two people?_ While he wasn't nearly as insecure as he'd been when he and Magnus began their rocky relationship, Alec still had his moments – and frankly, he thought he had a damn good reason to be insecure right now. "It's not personal, I've felt pretty sick all morning. I'm going to sleep."

"Just give me a ring if you need me, all right? I've nothing to do all day, so I'll be here. And I'm free tomorrow, too, so if you're feeling better, come by."

"I will. Love you," Alec said – then, before hanging up, said, "Magnus?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Are you angry about yesterday?"

"Why would I be?"

_Because you looked upset when you walked out and I don't know what I did wrong_, Alec thought, but like so many other things, he didn't say it. "Never mind. Bye."

As he closed his phone and cuddled into the blankets, he tried _nothing happened _one more time, just for the heck of it. The rest of his brain laughed sharply and spat _bullshit_. There was no hiding anymore. He could have this last nap, and then he needed to begin dealing with reality.

Just a day or two before Alanna's death, Alec had slid into Magnus's bed at four a.m., freshly showered after being splattered from head to toe with grayish, gelatinous demon blood, and threw an arm over his boyfriend's bare back. Magnus hadn't so much as twitched. Alec ran his fingers up the notches of Magnus's back – the warlock was so damn tall, he had to be concealing a few extra vertebrae in that unnaturally long spine of his – and drifted into a dreamless cloud of sleep, face nuzzled into the crook of Magnus's neck.

Today, he dreamt of Adam, of the slim bruises the older boy's fingers had left on his thighs, of the way he'd smiled as he'd cut his sister's throat, and somehow his nightmares spun together into some mutated helix until _Alec_ was the one striking Max with the hammer, feeling a dull flush of pleasure as the little body crumpled bonelessly to the floor.

He woke up crying.

* * *

Whoops, that was totally miserable, wasn't it? And also short, by this fic's standards - just over 2000 words. Blah. So here's what I'll do - leave a review, and I'll post chapter fourteen tomorrow to make it up to you, okay? :)


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **Well, you guys certainly delivered on the reviews count (_forty_ of them! *keysmash*) and thus I reward you with chapter fourteen. :D FYI, there are eight more chapters after this one, plus an epilogue, so we've got a ways to go yet.

Enjoy this rollercoaster ride of feels!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

"See, it's not really the taste I have a problem with," Magnus explained, carefully refilling his fountain pen with white ink. "The first few moments when it's in my mouth are fine, but the flavor never lasts longer than that, so then I'm left with this disgusting, slimy, tasteless _mess_ and I just can't stomach it. That's why I don't swallow."

"Um," Alec said, emerging from his fog of self-pity into what appeared to be the dirtiest topic of conversation ever, "what the _hell_ are you talking about?"

Magnus rolled his eyes and stabbed his pen at the plate which held the remainder of Alec's lunch. "I speak of your predilection for oranges, my dear, in all their stringy, flavorless glory. You'd know that if you tuned in for just thirty seconds during the last twenty minutes I was talking."

"How do you even talk about oranges for twenty minutes?"

"Practice."

Accepting that - because once he had listened in awe as Magnus declaimed on the subject of the color yellow for an hour and a half - Alec returned to the uninteresting yet encompassing task of shading the transformed werewolf he'd finally finished this afternoon. Nothing special, but significantly better than Magnus's drawing, which resembled a hideously mutated cat. It was like Magnus had never even _seen_ a werewolf. He had, of course. He'd screwed a few of them, too, Alec thought sourly, though it would only be fair to admit they probably weren't transformed at the time. Having the foresight to keep that to himself, he rested his head on his free hand and yawned.

Their one and only chance of finding Adam had turned out to be a bust. Despite a thorough search of the house, Clark concluded that absolutely nothing they owned would lead them to their son, and the few objects he thought Adam might've cared for at some point did not react to tracking rune. Magnus had speculated vaguely on attempting a spell to discover where Adam's letters had originated from, but, unsurprisingly, Clark admitted that Diana always burnt them after they'd been read. They were stagnating in the same position they had been in two days ago. And thus, Alec, sleepy and miserable, was in a terrible mood.

So far, Magnus was kindly keeping to his promise not to bring up what Alec had accidentally blurted out while they'd argued. Alec could see it was bothering him, however, itching at him like a mosquito bite on his brain. Once in a while he would glance up to find Magnus's eyes roaming over him, as though looking for invisible imperfections he'd not known existed before.

_What am I now?_ Alec wondered after one of these incidents, once Magnus's gaze flittered away. _Am I… different, somehow? Can he see it?_ But Magnus didn't even know, so maybe Alec's general low-level paranoia was just getting out of hand. He felt slightly better than he had yesterday, though still not quite right. He'd dragged himself to Brooklyn around noon on about twenty minutes of sleep, buried in a long-sleeved shirt and sweater and his jacket and still freezing, and settled in to finish the last few drawings he'd promised Magnus. This werewolf was actually the final item on the list he was given. He was almost upset it was over - given recent events, holing up in a warm corner of Magnus's apartment and creating the pictures for Magnus's book had become practically the only solace he had.

"Here," he said quietly, passing the parchment across the table.

Magnus plucked it from his fingers and raised his eyebrows. "This is gorgeous, Alec," he said. "And you thought I should hire _Clary_."

"She could've done better."

"Be that as it may - though I doubt it - she probably doesn't work _pro bono_, and she's not as cute as you are." Magnus dropped him a wink and settled the parchment atop the stack next to him. "Well, my darling, you're free from indentured servitude. Go forth and… get some sleep, perhaps."

"I'm not tired." It was _almost_ true - Alec was so far beyond exhausted that he was wired. Everything seemed too bright and vivid, like the world had been drawn with thick-tipped markers and shaded in stark primary colors.

"Mm-hm," Magnus hummed skeptically. Alec reached across the table to return the pencils to their tin, the loose sleeve of his sweater brushing the page Magnus was working on. "Be careful, that's not dry yet -" He grabbed Alec's wrist.

Alec ripped his arm from Magnus's grasp, leapt to his feet, and backpedaled so fast he knocked the chair over.

Magnus gaped. Instantly angry with himself, Alec set the chair upright again and threw himself down in it. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking intently at the tabletop and rubbing his fingers across the inside of his wrist. _Damn it._ This was the third time he'd reacted violently to otherwise ordinary stimuli. His father had barged into his bedroom without knocking early this morning, a bad habit with which Alec was well-acquainted, and Alec practically sprang out of his skin. Similarly, he'd nearly thrown a spoon at Isabelle when she accidentally collided with him in the kitchen a few hours later. A little skittish he might be by nature, but he was never downright _jumpy_ before. He had spent about an hour yesterday afternoon debating whether or not he was a completely different person now. _Yes_, one side of his mind insisted, _you're not who you thought you were for the past four years. It should've changed you from the moment it happened, but you ran away and so it didn't, but now it's happening and you're just going to have to suck it up, deal with it, and move on._ Meanwhile, the other half argued _no, you're the exact same person, you've just quit denying that your nightmare was reality. You went through a very painful and difficult trauma and you have to deal with _that_, but you're still you. You're still going to go out and hunt demons with Jace and Isabelle and go home to your hot warlock boyfriend, and then you'll get annoyed at your parents for acting like you dating Magnus is just some kind of phase, and you'll bitch about it in your journal and draw your father with an arrow through his head and get over it. You might be the sum of your experiences, but that wasn't your _only_ experience, was it?_

Then he'd gotten up and downed a few ibuprofen to attack the headache he'd given himself. That tendency of his was getting out of hand. It was far from new, though - now, sitting in Magnus's study, Alec could remember curling up on his bed years ago and hugging his cat and riding a wave of guilt that ebbed and flowed like the tide. _It's my fault. Don't be stupid. I should've stopped him. He's bigger and stronger than I am and he gave me a concussion. If I hadn't hit him…. Most people don't react like that to being hit. I provoked him. Yeah, but talk about disproportionate retribution._

"Hey," Magnus said. Alec glanced up at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He'd spent twenty minutes this morning sitting on his bed, staring off into space, and when he came back to reality, he was shivering all over like he had a fever. He thought he might be handling this wrong. Shouldn't he be having some kind of violent mental collapse instead of hanging out in his boyfriend's study and going on like normal?

Magnus capped his pen and put it down. "Want to talk about it?"

Alec had opened his mouth to say no when he realized that would be a bad idea. If he kept refusing to talk about _anything_, Magnus would probably leave him out of sheer frustration. So he chose a comparatively safe topic of conversation and said, "I can't believe I didn't know it was him."

One of Magnus's eyebrows disappeared into his hair, which had a distinctly purple sheen to it but had not been spiked up, slicked back, or otherwise styled. It looked so soft and feathery without any hairspray or gel that Alec had to resist a desire to run his hands through it. "How could you have known?" he asked, gently blowing on a sheet of parchment to dry the ink. "Did he ever call you up and say, 'hi Alec, how's it going, haven't seen you in a while, we should do lunch sometime! Oh, by the way, I'm going to kidnap, torture, and murder my little sister one of these days. Do me a favor and don't tell anyone'?"

"Don't be stupid," Alec said. "I didn't know him that well, but I knew there was something seriously wrong with that kid." Magnus looked like he might ask for expansion of that statement, so he rushed on, "When we first found Alanna's body, I just think… I should've thought about him."

"Hindsight may be twenty-twenty, but to be honest, I'm not surprised you _didn't_." Magnus spirited his book - which appeared nearly finished now - away with a waggle of his fingers. "Look at it this way - could you ever consciously do something to hurt your siblings?"

"No," Alec answered immediately. He would protect Isabelle with his life. He was contractually obligated to protect Jace with his life, but even if he hadn't accepted the _parabatai_ rune (which Jace had demanded of him quite suddenly one otherwise nondescript December morning, and Alec probably sounded a bit too eager when he agreed), he would do it anyway. He'd failed Max. He wouldn't fail them, even if it killed him.

"Then I doubt anyone would fault you for not instantly assuming Adam could," Magnus said simply.

Alec irritably rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Magnus demanded, standing and leaning on the table. He was taller than Alec by a good four inches, but he had never made him uncomfortable before, and now Alec pressed his shoulders against the ridges of the chair's back and wished he had his knife on him - then regarded that wish with horror. _What's _happening_ to me?_ he thought wildly. "Alexander, I am being _extraordinarily_ patient with you because I realize you're going through a lot right now. I don't want to push and I don't want to pry, but trust me, the temptation to sit on you and _make_ you tell me what's going on is sometimes very hard to ignore."

Alec's ears were ringing. Bunching the fabric of his sweater in his hands, he softly said, "If you do that to me, I _promise_ I will break up with you."

Magnus shook his head, sat down again. "I would never do that to you. And you can't break up with me, by the way."

"Why?"

"Because I haven't been dumped by a teenager in over a century and I will not have you disrupt that streak," Magnus said simply. Rolling his eyes, Alec let go of his sweater as soon as he could unclench his fingers and smoothed away the creases. Magnus sighed, rested his chin on his hand, and regarded Alec without expression. "You won't talk to me anymore."

"I _can't_," Alec repeated helplessly.

"Because…?"

_Because I'm scared you'll look at me and only see the cracks instead of the parts that are still whole, if there are even any left._ That sounded much too melodramatic. "I just can't talk to you about this."

Magnus's eyes narrowed. "But," he said slowly, "you _can_ talk to your new best friend."

Thrown, Alec stared at him. "Who… oh, for Raziel's sake, Magnus, is this about Benjamin again? I've already told you, he's my friend, _nothing else_. Compatible sexuality aside, there's nothing that attracts me to him." Perhaps there may have been if they'd met sooner, but… Benjamin was beautiful in the way shards of glass were beautiful. They sparkled like a shower of diamonds, yet the moment you picked them up, they would only slice your fingers open. If Alec had fallen for him, he suspected it would've held no more meaning than his crush on Jace ultimately had. "And since he's Hodge's brother and Hodge was like my father, I think there'd be something vaguely incestuous about any relationship we got into." He paused, taking in Magnus's frown, which did not look placated in the slightest. "Am I really this annoying when I'm being the jealous one?"

Much to his relief, Magnus cracked a smile at that. "No, love, I'm afraid you're _much_ worse."

Alec made a face and wrapped his arms around himself, more for warmth than for comfort. "Sorry. I've got to work on that. But look, the point is, I haven't told him too much about what happened either."

He realized too late that those had not been the right words. He frantically tried to invent some way to backtrack, but Magnus was already shrewdly saying, "So something _did_ happen."

"It's nothing _bad_," Alec insisted, which was easily the most monstrous lie he'd ever told aside from screaming _nothing happened_ at himself for four long years. There was absolutely no good in what Adam Ashdown had done to him. Alec could barely even rationalize it to himself as some kind of sick vengeance for being socked in the jaw - 'vengeance' would imply that the punishment fit the crime, and Alec, struggling though he was, knew damn well that it hadn't. He hit Jace all the time, and Jace hit him back, but they never retaliated with more than the other deserved. Adam had had no right to anything beyond a revenge punch. _But if I hadn't hit him in the first place…._

Magnus's eyes were fixed on a point above Alec's right shoulder. Looking very contemplative, he murmured, "You told me you felt like he was still touching you."

Alec's blood ran cold. He'd not even put on his watch this morning because it felt too tight around his wrist. He couldn't meet Magnus's gaze.

Almost inaudibly, Magnus asked, "Was it Adam?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Alec said, keeping his voice remarkably calm in spite of his heart rate reaching unprecedented heights. He stood up and walked out of the study. His satchel was still thrown on the living room couch, as was his jacket, as it no longer had a loop to hang from; he was tying the laces of his boots when Magnus came in. "I'm going home now."

"Of course you are," Magnus said, sounding resigned. "Alec, sooner or later you're going to have to stop running away."

"I'm not running away from anything," Alec replied flatly. "Except you, maybe. I'd like it if you left me alone."

Magnus came closer. Alec straightened up quickly, swung his satchel over his shoulder. "Is this really what it's going to be like from now on? Every time I open my mouth, you're going to get upset and bolt?" Leaning next to the front door, just near enough to his escape route that Alec felt efficiently trapped, Magnus regarded him sadly. "Alec, I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. Maybe… if you'd just tell me what's going on, maybe I can help you."

"You _can't!_" Alec snapped. "You can't just wave your hand and make it go away! _I tried!_ And I just want you to stop asking about it, okay? I _had_ everything under control until you just… brought it all back!" Beneath the undercurrent of anger, he knew he was taking out his frustrations on his boyfriend, knew Magnus had done nothing but be supportive while Alec was ungrateful, but he couldn't stop himself. "You don't help. All you do is pry and you just make it worse! I need you to leave me alone for now. Maybe for a while. I can't deal with this when you're breathing down my neck!"

The expression on Magnus's face was heartbreaking. He looked like Alec had struck him. Taking a deep breath, trapping the tears behind his eyelids, Alec said, "I'm going home. If you try to make me talk about what happened to me, if you keep asking questions, I'm going to become the first teenager to dump you in a hundred years." He fumbled at the doorknob, stepped out of the apartment, and closed the door firmly behind him.

It took an iron effort of will for him to make it home without crying.

He'd seen better days, Alec decided dully, leaning against the wall of the elevator and examining his reflection. His hair was a wreck, his eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, he was milk-white except for a red flush painted across his cheeks…. _I didn't look this bad after Abbadon_. He made a beeline for his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, flopped down on his bed, and forgot to close his door, which he realized five minutes later when Isabelle strolled in.

"You look like you've been crying," she greeted him.

"I haven't."

"You look like you have." Isabelle planted her hands on her hips and frowned. "Do I have to call Jace? Clary can make Portals, he can be back here in five minutes if we need to go down there and administer a beating to your boyfriend."

"You don't," Alec said, turning onto his stomach and trying to suffocate himself in his pillow.

"Well, the offer stands."

"He didn't do anything wrong." Sighing, he tilted his face to the side and let himself breathe properly again. There was yet another slow ache developing behind his eyes. "I… pretty much tried to drive him away," he whispered. Magnus deserved none of what Alec was doing to him, but if Alec could no longer even handle something silly like having his arm grabbed, then maybe Magnus didn't deserve to be saddled with Alec, either. "Leave me alone, Izzy."

Isabelle, at least, slipped out of the room without a comment, though Alec had a feeling Magnus might be receiving a few unpleasant text messages in the next few minutes. He drew his knees up and swaddled himself in the blanket and, despite himself, fell sound asleep.

When he woke up, the sky outside was dark and someone was pinning him to the bed. The rush of adrenaline came instantly and violently - a cry ripped its way out of his throat, he thrashed against the hand holding him down, he swung -

And the figure perched on the edge of his mattress caught his arm in one thin hand, effortlessly aborted the blow, and pushed his arm down to the bed. "Alexander," she said sharply. "Stop. It's all right, you were dreaming."

Alec's breath left his lungs in what might have been a shriek had he gotten any sound behind it. Gasping, he rolled out from beneath her hands, curled into a ball, and shivered so hard the headboard rattled against the wall. He almost flung himself clear off the mattress when his mother touched his hair. "It's all right," she said again, soft, like he was still five years old and afraid of the dark, "it was only a dream."

_No_, he thought, with a sudden, bright clarity that sliced through his mental fog, _it's a memory. I was fourteen and I made him angry and he hurt me._

As his trembling subsided, Maryse moved her hand from his hair to his forehead, and he heard her sigh. "You have a fever."

He uncoiled and rolled back over. The room was too dark to see her face, but he could picture her expression. It was the way she'd looked at him when Isabelle gave him a stomach virus and he had thrown up until he pulled a muscle, when a demon had punted him thirty feet along the asphalt and he'd lost most of the skin from his right arm, when he had had nightmares as a child and woken up sobbing. She was a good mother, he thought hazily, and the unexpected impulse to just break down and tell her _everything_ was so powerful he had to clamp his teeth over his lip to make sure his mouth would stay closed.

"I'm not sick," Alec said, once he was sure the right words would come out, "I just haven't been sleeping well."

"And you've made yourself sick." She pressed her palm to his cheek, much the way Magnus often did, although Maryse had never proceeded to inspect him like she was trying to work out the best way to get him off. _Wow, _that_ was a disturbing concept. _"You're burning up. Lay back down," she said, because he'd started to prop himself up on his elbows. Alec sunk against the pillows as Maryse shook out the tangle of blankets and draped them over him. "Only one of us is allowed to work themselves into pneumonia, and it isn't you."

Caught off-guard by this rare attempt at humor, Alec found himself smiling. "I'll be fine," he promised, folding an arm behind his head. "It's just… been a rough couple of weeks."

"I know." Maryse rested her hand on his forehead again for a second. "Go back to sleep. It's late."

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was already awake. I thought I heard you say something, so I came down to tell you to go to bed already, and then you screamed."

He winced. "Sorry."

"Don't be." There were a few moments where she stroked his hair and he watched shadows move across the ceiling through half-lidded eyes and neither of them spoke. "It's going to be all right."

Maryse was speaking of Alanna, of the Diana and Clark and the son they'd pretended wasn't a monster, but he liked to think she understood he was staggering beneath the weight of so much more than he could ever say. "Will it?"

"Yes," she said, so decisively he couldn't help but believe her. "You're not going through any of this alone. None of us are. We're all going to be fine."

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Night, Mom."

"Good night." She took her hand from his hair, walked out of the room, and shut the door. Alec turned his head to the side. On the nightstand, a small white square glowed like a nightlight - the display on his cell phone. It cheerily twinkled **1:31 AM** at him on a half-full battery.

_You're not going through any of this alone._ But he _was…_ or at least he was trying to. _Is driving away the one person who _wants_ to help me really going to accomplish anything?_ he thought, and reached for the phone.

* * *

Well, at least this chapter ends on a somewhat more upbeat note than the previous one. But like I said, we've still got eight chapters to go, so don't expect any easy resolutions.

Fifteen will go up on Wednesday if you're all lovely and review. :D


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter, unless you count a description of a panic attack.

**Notes: **Your high hopes for this chapter amuse Spun. Forgive her while she seizes them and dashes them upon the flagstones like an empty flagon of mead.

Enjoy. :D

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

Alec's fever broke around five a.m., not long before he was woken from a doze by Church mewling and scratching at the door. He stumbled out of bed to let him inside. Church took three steps in, looked around, twitched his nose, and walked out. "_Cats_," Alec muttered like a swear word, falling back onto the mattress.

Magnus had not yet returned his call, although Alec hadn't really expected him to. He supposed he would be lucky if Magnus even listened to the voicemail. Still, he felt better for having left it - he'd apologized about eight times during the forty-second message. He didn't go to sleep after that, as he didn't relish having another nightmare that tattooed Adam's smile on the insides of his eyelids, but he did succeed in relaxing long enough that he felt marginally better now.

Then he proceeded to undo all his hard work by getting up early and joining Isabelle in the training room for a solid two hours of having his ass handed to him.

If nothing else, it deprived him of the opportunity to dwell on recent events. Isabelle moved like her whip - quick and sinuous and nearly unseen until she wrapped around you and threw you to the ground. Alec's back was one enormous bruise after about five minutes, and he was pretty sure she was going easy on him. Benjamin slipped in at one point, though he did not participate, merely sat against a wall and watched them train, his rapt attention almost disconcerting in its intensity. When Isabelle noticed and Benjamin was momentarily focused elsewhere, she threw a blunt practice knife at him without the courtesy of a warning. He caught it by the hilt before it struck his face. Though Alec was beginning to suspect Benjamin did not do very much actual fighting, he had the reflexes of a cat.

Isabelle smiled sweetly. "Just seeing if you were daydreaming," she said, and promptly kicked Alec's feet out from beneath him.

Later, once Isabelle had skipped off to have a shower and inflict breakfast upon them, Alec flopped onto his side on the mats and blinked the sweat from his eyes as Benjamin meandered over. "Do you like being hit, or is there another reason you let her beat you up?"

Alec snorted. "Trust me, I don't 'let' Isabelle do anything. She's the best Shadowhunter I've ever known, aside from Jace, and he sort of doesn't count due -" He broke off. While neither Jace nor Clary were particularly secretive regarding how Valentine's treatment had left both of them, there was a general unspoken agreement that it wasn't something they wanted to flaunt. "If anything, I should be lucky I get to train with her. Obviously I don't offer up much of a challenge."

Benjamin didn't seem to notice the flub. "I see," he said. "Well, just so you know, you tend to leave your back open a lot."

"That's because I'm always watching everyone else's." Alec painfully propelled himself up off the floor.

"Oh. I'm going to leave you alone now and hope you take a shower."

"Point taken," Alec said dryly, forcing his uncooperative legs to bring him out of the training room and back to his bedroom. Despite the ass-kicking he'd been awarded on less than an hour of sleep, he felt surprisingly good - like all of the ducking and dodging and occasionally managing to take advantage of Isabelle's weak points had burned something dark and rotten out of him. Leaning against the wall of his shower, face tilted up into the spray, he thought that perhaps his mother had been on to something. He was still one hundred percent more screwed up than he'd been a week ago, but if he could grab two hours of feeling normal here and there, maybe he _could_ put himself back together well enough that the missing pieces weren't visible unless one was looking for them.

He slid down to sit on the bottom of the tub, absently rinsing suds from his hair. _You've only just stopped denying it_, he told himself. _So it's like it happened last week instead of four years ago. Self-flagellating isn't going to help. If it had been Izzy -_ his stomach did some impressive gymnastics at that - _would you expect her to be over it in three days?_

_But it wouldn't have been Isabelle_, the argumentative side of his brain piped up. _She's tougher than you, and Adam knew it - she must've pissed him off too, she said so, and he left her alone. He knew she wouldn't have put up with any of his shit._

Luckily, before he could start fighting with himself and aggravate his ever-present headache, there was a shrill ring from the bedroom. Alec jumped to his feet, almost slipped and killed himself, and rushed out of the bathroom (pausing only to throw a towel around his waist, as he lived with people who generally eschewed knocking on closed doors). He grabbed his phone off his desk - his heart jittered when he saw **Magnus** splashed across the display - and, taking a deep breath, he answered. "Hello?"

"Hi there." Magnus _sounded_ casual enough, but Alec thought he could detect an undercurrent of tension in his voice.

"Um," Alec said, sitting down in his desk chair and trying not to drip all over everything, "I guess you got my voicemail?"

"I did, I only just got up a few minutes ago. Listen, Alec, we need to talk. We need to talk someplace where neither of us can get up and storm out in a huff without causing a scene."

'Neither of us' was just a courtesy, as Alec knew full well that he was the only one who would be embarrassed by such a thing, but he appreciated it nonetheless. "Yeah, I know. Any ideas?"

He wasn't even surprised when Magnus named the coffeeshop where Maia had told him about the witchlight. He had no trouble at all picturing Magnus sipping organic coffee and wearing a beret. They agreed to meet up in an hour - "I'm not actually dressed," Alec said, but Magnus didn't shoot back a saucy response - and Alec ended the call with a feeling of foreboding. He would deserve it if Magnus broke up with him, he thought, even if he wasn't entirely sure he could handle _that_ on top of everything else right now. He yanked on his jeans and a sweater and went hunting for his boots.

_What if I just tell him?_ he wondered, curled up in his seat on the subway and ignoring the couple next to him who were noisily trying to suck each other's tonsils out. But the thought shoved needles into his belly -_ what if he looks at me differently what if he treats me differently what if he's angry that I didn't tell him and doesn't want to be with me anymore_ - and by the time he walked into the cafe, he'd worked himself into quite a stomachache.

Magnus, seated at a table next to the window, was indeed wearing a beret, although he could actually pull it off. He was reading and didn't glance up until Alec hesitantly lowered himself into the opposite chair. "What is up with the hats here?" Alec asked.

"Herd mentality," Magnus replied, closing the book and pushing it aside. He folded his hands on the table and then, to Alec's shock, smiled ever so slightly. "So. What am I going to do with you, Alexander?"

"What?"

"I really tried to be angry with you. I drowned my sorrows in sangria and ranted and raved at Chairman Meow - who was singularly unimpressed, by the way - but I just could not conjure any emotion beyond mild frustration."

"You should've been angry," Alec said. He picked up the salt shaker out of some desperate need for something to do with his hands. It was shaped like a little blue owl, which he supposed was no more than he'd expected.

"Maybe." Magnus reached over and took the salt shaker away before Alec spilled it, placed his hands over Alec's. "Usually when you're upset, I can put myself into your shoes - a few hundred years, I've been around the block, so to speak - and understand what you're going through. But this…." He shook his head. "I don't have any experience to draw on. I'm flying blind and I may not be doing a very good job of it."

Alec swallowed. "You don't even know what happened."

"No," Magnus admitted. "I can speculate - I can probably speculate _correctly_ - but I don't know for sure, because you won't tell me." He let go of Alec's hand and sat back. "I wish you wouldn't shut me out."

Involuntarily, recalling questions upon questions that had never received satisfying answers, Alec muttered, "Well, now you know what it's like."

Magnus winced. "I suppose I deserved that."

"You did." Alec folded his arms on the table and settled his chin on them. Someone had plastered a little dinosaur sticker to the polished wood and he picked at the peeling edges with a fingernail, not meeting Magnus's eyes. "You were right," he confessed, very quietly. "It was Adam. But I don't want to talk about what he did to me."

"All right, I can understand that." Running his fingers through his spiky hair, Magnus exhaled slowly and regarded Alec with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "You don't want to talk to me in particular, and I can't figure out why. But Alec, I think you _need _to tell someone. Whatever you're trying to suppress is eating you alive." Magnus gave another faint smile, cupped Alec's cheek in his hand. Alec closed his eyes, leaned into the touch of warm fingers wrapped in cool bands of metal. Magnus always wore too many rings. "Talk to someone. As much as I'd like it to be, I'm coming to accept that it probably won't be me. Talk to _someone_, Alec, and then come to me when you're ready. We'll watch terrible television and doze off on the couch and I'll kiss you goodnight and bitch because you taste like oranges." He paused. "If you still want that, of course."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Your rant yesterday did sound very much like a break-up speech," Magnus said. He brushed his knuckles over Alec's jaw before removing his hand entirely. "I wasn't entirely certain you planned on coming back to this relationship - and if it's not something you want, right now, I won't make you."

Alec opened his eyes. _How could I ever want anything but you?_ "Did you finish your book yet?"

"Nearly," Magnus said, looking bewildered at the change of topic. "I really just need to put on a few finishing touches and bind it."

"I want to read it when it's done," Alec said, and knew Magnus knew what he meant.

He dragged himself back to the Institute an hour later, exhausted, but the closest he'd been to genuinely happy in days. Even his rumpled bed, which had recently been the source of much misery and fear, looked inviting as Alec shed his boots and jacket and contemplated a nap. Half an hour could help without giving him a chance to dream. Still, he didn't feel quite ready to sleep, so he sprawled on the mattress and watched clouds drift across the sky outside.

_Tell someone_, Magnus had stressed, but Alec knew he couldn't. Not yet. He had to be completely honest with himself, first.

The problem with that was the memory itself. It haunted the back of his mind, poked tendrils beneath his skin, clung to him like a leech - but he simply _could not_ make himself replay it. Acknowledging that Adam wasn't just some annoying pain in the ass who'd deserved the punch in the jaw, that he had hurt Alec and Alec was still unsure whether or not he could repair the damage… he was starting to realize that had been the easy part.

Alec suddenly rolled himself off the bed and padded over to his closet. Normally, he was a voracious journal-keeper - since he was about five, he had painstakingly tried to chronicle every moment of every day, even when impressive amounts of nothing had happened - but he'd taken a flying leap off the wagon as of late. He didn't get rid of his journals, either, even when there was no line left blank, and now he was counting on that habit.

His closet was nothing like Magnus's, although the amount of clutter was comparable (Jace had once claimed that opening the door was the only thing that could make him weep). While Magnus's closet was big enough to boast its own zip code and stuffed with eight generations' worth of outfits, Alec's was kind of just a general mess. Clothes, gear he'd either outgrown or destroyed beyond recognition, his extra bow, his long-neglected violin, a bunch of little things he had no use for but didn't want to throw away… at the bottom of the pile was what he'd been looking for. He shifted everything and, once he was sure it wouldn't all collapse on him like an avalanche of junk, he pulled out the cardboard boxes containing his old journals.

There were _dozens_ of them, from wide-ruled composition books containing messily-printed complaints about his annoying little sister to the thicker, neater notebooks where he'd detailed every agonizing moment of his sexuality crisis. Before he'd packed them away, he had the foresight to label the covers with the dates they contained, which helped immensely, as Alec could fill a five-subject notebook in a month. He sifted through the books. Someday, he decided, he was going to go back and reread all of these - but then he found a red notebook with **Jan/Feb 2004** scribbled across the front. The Ashdowns' last visit had been at the end of the January he was fourteen.

It started off innocuous enough. Demons, training, snippets of research for a project Hodge had made them do…. Jace's name came up a lot. Thinking it was a damn good thing he'd already known he was gay by that point, Alec skimmed ahead. More training, a twelve-page frustrated screed about how unfair it was when his parents compared him to Jace and Isabelle and their Shadowhunting brilliance, some nervous babble about the upcoming guests -

And then, nothing. The final third of the notebook was blank. But when the entries picked up again in **Feb/Mar 2004**, a week after the last one, they were… weird, at first. Small, choppy, uninformative. _I still can't sleep_, he'd written in almost every one. He had mentioned cutting his hair short again. He couldn't find a single reference to what had transpired during the past week.

There wouldn't be, though, he realized. Alec had put every possible effort into erasing the memory from his mind. He'd managed to forget for _four years_, settled into a solace only occasionally interrupted by troubling dreams and unwanted, intrusive thoughts until the night Magnus had pulled on his hair a bit too hard. And now he had to deal with it. He closed the notebook and hugged it to his chest and wanted to smack his fourteen-year-old self in the face. _This is all your fault_, he scolded fiercely. _You shut it away and made yourself forget and _now,_ at the worst possible time, you're having a crisis. You're an idiot. He hurt you -_

No. No, that was wrong. Magnus had made Alec sit through _The Princess Bride_ a couple of weeks ago, which hadn't been half as tortuous as Magnus's movie choices typically were, and a quote came to mind now: 'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.' _Hurt_ was not the right descriptor for what Adam had done to him. Alec had been hurt before - by Jace's barbed comments, by Isabelle's whip flinging him into the dirt, by the prickle of his cat's claws - but Adam hadn't hurt him. _Hurt_ made him think of an injury, something he knew he could recover from and how long it would take.

_He _-

The word wouldn't come, not even in his head, as if that was his mind's last desperate attempt to defend him from the horrible truth. He took a deep breath, then another - and by the time he realized he was hyperventilating, there was no way to derail the oncoming panic attack.

Alec wasn't a stranger to the overwhelming rush of fear, to the jump in blood pressure that sent his heart knocking wildly against his sternum. He'd been annoyingly prone to anxiety attacks as a child, especially on those occasions when his parents tried to make him talk to people he didn't know, but he mostly outgrew both the panicking and the paralyzing shyness before he was fourteen. In hindsight, he almost wished he'd still been too shy to ever open his mouth at that point. If he hadn't pissed off Adam….

He braced himself against the closet door, closed his eyes, and shook like a leaf in the wind, reminding himself it would be finished soon whenever he could form a coherent thought. The hardest bit was remembering that he wasn't dying. The rest was just letting it run its course. A cold sweat beaded his forehead as he gulped air through his constricted throat, feeling oddly detached from his body. _He held me down, he _violated _me, he…._

His breathing gradually began to slow, the anxiety ebbing and returning him to a steadier state of mind. Alec opened his eyes and blinked until the room sharpened. He felt dizzy and weak, his limbs watery, chest aching from the hyperventilation. _The worst part's over, worst part's over. _He clenched his hands against his legs until they stopped quivering. Slowly, Alec packed the notebooks into their box, closed it up again, slid it back into the closet and shut the door. He wished he could put his memories away so easily, but he couldn't, not anymore. The bed creaked when he climbed onto it and wrapped himself around his pillow.

_He didn't hurt me._

Alec tightened his fingers in the pillowcase, pressed his nose against the fabric. It smelled like sandalwood and laundry detergent.

_He didn't hurt me. He raped me._

* * *

Look at that glorious lack of denial! It's what we've all waited fifty thousand words for!

Please leave reviews, my darlings, and chapter sixteen will magically _poof_ into existence on Friday.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

Discussion of rape, nothing more specific than anything else I've already written.

**Notes: **Hey, this is the chapter where that thing you want finally happens!

...sort of.

*walks away whistling jauntily*

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

_Adam raped me. I was fourteen, he was stronger than me, he caught me off-guard and hit me in the head and placed a Quietude rune on me so I couldn't scream, and then he raped me._

Alec had repeated the words to himself approximately two hundred times since the previous day. He was only now just reaching the point where he could get through all of them without breaking off mid-sentence or fighting the urge to vomit. Never had he thought his habit of forgetting to eat would help him, but with an empty stomach, he hadn't needed to throw up every time he felt like he might. Although he'd tried adding _it wasn't my fault_ to his little mantra, his brain balked at including it. Everything else was cold, hard fact. That one was still up in the air. It was easy to blame himself – Max's death was his fault, Alanna's death was his fault, Etienne's death was probably his fault too – and he couldn't just assume _that_ hadn't been his fault. The dark parts of his mind whispered _you provoked him_ every time he did.

It was eight-thirty in the morning and Alec was sitting at the kitchen island, carefully picking the marshmallows out of his Lucky Charms, returning them to the box, and wondering what the hell was so lucky about crunchy little marshmallows that turned into soggy blobs of sugar when they got wet. Isabelle always yelled at him when she poured herself breakfast and got a bowl full of empty calories, but Jace would eat those things by the handful, and Max had only enjoyed the sugary parts of cereals to begin with. Alec liked to think that he was doing the household a service. Once his bowl was devoid of anything as brightly-colored as Magnus's wardrobe, he dumped some milk in and ate. He was so hungry his fingers were shaking.

"I hope you left some actual substance in there." Isabelle, wrapped in a neon-pink robe and dragging a brush through her wet hair, plunked a bowl onto the island and sat down next to him. She picked up the box and frowned. "Why do we always have Lucky Charms?"

Leaning his head on his hand, Alec shrugged. That was one of the great mysteries of the Institute. Isabelle threw him a scowl when she ended up with a bowlful of marshmallow confetti, but apparently wasn't interested in arguing about it, because she just sloshed milk over her cereal and said, "So, just in case you forgot, my offer to go beat up Magnus is still open."

"I don't need you to beat up Magnus."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Seriously, you know I would do anything for you, right?"

Alec scraped his spoon through the milk at the bottom of the bowl and smiled slightly. "Yeah, I do." He gave her a sideways look. "I sort of hope that doesn't extend to killing my boyfriend, though."

"Oh, like you wouldn't kill any of _my_ boyfriends if you thought they were doing something to me."

Caught off-guard by her choice of words, Alec straightened up and looked at her directly. "What do you think he's doing to me?"

Isabelle sighed. "I don't mean he's _doing_ something to you. I don't know, I just…" She mindlessly stirred her cereal, turning the milk an unpleasant, murky shade of green. "I don't know if this is about Alanna Ashdown, or the fact that her brother turned out to be a raging shithead, or what, but if you were trying to pretend that nothing's been wrong for the past week or so, you did a _really_ crappy job. Do you know how loud you are when you wake up screaming?"

Alec stared. She caught his gaze for a moment and went on. "And you're fighting with Magnus, obviously, you're always depressed and mopey. I just figured if he was bothering you that badly, I know a couple of great places to hide bodies."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that," he said, and she grinned. Alec set his chin in his hand again and watched the last few bits of cereal turn to mush. "Listen, Izzy, you're my sister and I trust you with my life, but this isn't really something you'd be able to understand." At least, he desperately _hoped_ she wouldn't be able to understand. As her oldest brother, it was Alec's job to be annoyingly overprotective, but discovering the root of that behavior was more than a little unsettling. Isabelle was strong, though - certainly stronger than Alec. She'd never needed his protection. "And it's really not Magnus's fault, either. The fighting's been kind of… one-sided."

"Ah," Isabelle said. "Well, in that case, I suggest you grovel. It usually works for me."

Privately, Alec doubted Isabelle had ever groveled to anyone in her life. "I think we've talked it out, but thanks for the advice."

She jauntily waved her spoon at him as he got up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. "Always happy to help."

When Alec went back to his bathroom to brush his teeth, he found himself lingering before the mirror, examining his reflection - still pale, still sporting deep purple bruises beneath the eyes, but also still dark-haired and blue-eyed and as fine-boned as it had ever been. _Adam raped you_, he reminded himself, vaguely pleased when his stomach only twisted a bit, _he didn't rip out all the rest of you. He can't change you unless you let him._

_And frankly_, he thought as he turned out the light, _it's been about four days and I'm already wholly sick of freaking out over it._

He couldn't just flip off a switch and make all the trauma vanish, though, which he was cruelly reminded of at around noon, when Robert barreled into the room so noisily that there might've been a problem if Alec had a weapon within reach. The moment he left, Alec locked himself in the bathroom and quietly freaked out. He didn't even know _why_. His memory of the whole Adam incident was so grainy that he couldn't recall if it had begun with Adam just bursting in, but even if it had, Robert had probably never knocked on a door in his entire life. Alec was _used_ to that. Furious with himself for getting worked up over something so ordinary, Alec got up, splashed water on his face, and resolved not to panic next time, whenever that was.

Not an hour later, his mother came barging in as well.

"_Dammit_!" Alec hissed, scrambling to pick up everything he'd knocked to the floor when he flew from one side of the room to the other. Maryse gave him the sort of look which should not have been intimidating on a woman wearing a bathrobe and slippers. "Doesn't _anyone_ in this house knock?! What if I was doing something that I didn't want you walking in on?"

She hiked one narrow eyebrow. "What would you be doing that you wouldn't want me walking in on?"

Alec spluttered, flushed, and waved his arms wildly like an inebriated chimpanzee. "Never _mind_." Let her think what she wanted, as embarrassing as it might be. The sound of his door suddenly opening was doing dangerously disruptive things to his heartbeat. "The point is, everyone could try knocking on closed doors from now on."

"We're having spaghetti for dinner," Maryse said in response, walking out and shutting the door again.

Alec flung himself onto his bed. She hadn't even _needed_ to come in to tell him that. Thankfully, before he could start stewing in his own inability to cope, his cell phone jangled cheerily. He scooped it off the nightstand, glanced at the display, flipped it open. "Hey."

"You requested a distraction from your patricidal desires?"

"I'm thinking of killing them both, now," Alec said. He drew a blanket around himself and folded an arm beneath his head.

"Well, never fear, darling, the cavalry has arrived," Magnus chirped. "Sort of. I'm in a cab, so you'll have to settle for just my magnificent voice. How are things?"

_Adam raped me_. But he couldn't say that to Magnus, not yet. While the warlock had displayed a truly stunning capacity for forgiveness, while he'd implied that he knew what was going on and wouldn't judge Alec for any of it… Alec's throat closed when he thought about saying the words, even though all he wanted to do was scream them, claw them out of his throat before they shredded him. That little niggling doubt still tickled his nerves. He didn't know _how_ to tell him, nor did he know if he would even be able to choke out the truth. He felt a bit sick. "…nothing," Alec finally said.

"Alec, I don't think that's a logical answer to the question I asked."

Alec thought back and swore out loud. "Sorry, I swear I was listening, I just haven't…."

"Still not sleeping well?" Magnus asked sympathetically.

"Yeah."

Slowly, like he wasn't sure if he should broach the topic, Magnus said, "Anything new come up with Adam?"

Hearing the name from someone else's lips made Alec cringe slightly, but he didn't fling himself from the window, so that was a plus. "Unfortunately, no. Clark hasn't found anything trackable and - I don't know for sure - I suspect Diana isn't being particularly helpful."

Magnus sighed. "She wants to protect him," he said, "but she isn't doing anyone any favors."

_Especially not us_. He was still out there, somewhere, perhaps looking for another target or remembering his sister's terror and smiling all the while. Alec closed his eyes and shuddered, once, so hard it was almost painful. Maryse had notified the Clave of Adam's role in Alanna's murder, and by now there wasn't a Shadowhunter on the planet who didn't know what he'd done, but still, there had been no leads. Even the friend he had supposedly been living with admitted he hadn't seen Adam since Brocelind Plain. If nothing else, though, they'd confirmed he was there. It was very possible Etienne's death had also been his gruesome handiwork. "I hate not knowing where he is. It makes me nervous." Grasping at a change of subject, Alec said, "How's Chairman Meow?"

"He ate a dust bunny a few hours ago."

Alec laughed. Then, to his absolute shock, someone _knocked_ on the door. "Hold on a second," he told Magnus, sitting up and kicking the blankets away. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Benjamin stuck his head in. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt… I was just wondering if you had any idea what happened to my other shoe," he said, lifting his hand, from which dangled a single brown boot.

"Um," Alec said. "No, but sometimes Church runs away with peoples' shoes. Try checking in places only a cat would fit into."

"…right. Thanks, I think." Benjamin made to close the door again.

"Wait." Alec swung a leg off the bed, caught the door with his foot before it shut entirely. "Wait a minute, I want to ask you something."

"Is this going to take a while?" Magnus asked. "I can call back."

"I – I'm not sure. I'll call you when I'm done, okay?"

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just… I'm taking some advice. I think. Sort of," he said, and hung up before Magnus could question that. He looked back to Benjamin, who was still hovering on the threshold. "The other day," Alec began slowly, "when we were in the library, you interrupted me while I was babbling to myself."

"Well, talking to yourself is a little weird, don't you think?" Benjamin said, stepping inside and closing the door again.

"Yes," Alec admitted, "but you said you didn't want me to blurt out any dark secrets." He twisted the corner of a blanket around his fingers until the circulation cut off, bit his lip, then gave Benjamin a hard look and said, "What did you think I was going to say?"

Benjamin's narrow shoulders rose in a shrug. "You…." He trailed off, hesitated. "If Adam killed Etienne – most people don't just up and kill someone one day, right? They start out small. Assault, robbery, little crimes like that… then they escalate." Tongue darting across his lips, he tugged at the drawstring of his sweatshirt, not meeting Alec's eyes. "Adam seems like the sort of guy with the capacity for rape."

Blood welled up around Alec's teeth. He rubbed his mouth on the back of his hand. He'd expected it, but still he asked, "How did you –"

"You _told_ me," Benjamin pointed out. "Not explicitly, but it was pretty clear what you meant. Also, no offense, but you are _really_ high-strung, so that was… kind of a clue."

Alec sighed and sunk his hands into his hair, elbows braced against his knees. "Magnus wants me to tell him about it," he whispered, "but I _can't_."

"Why not?"

"I don't know!" Alec said, more sharply than he'd meant to, "I should, I _want_ to, but I can't, I don't –" He cut himself off and yanked his fingers through his hair hard enough to hurt. "He'll want to help me. He'll want to make it better and he doesn't realize it's not that easy. And Jace and Isabelle, if I told _them_, they'd be furious _for _me, and I don't need that – and god, if I told my parents…." His stomach somersaulted at the thought. "They're rather Law-abiding now, they'd drag me up to Idris and in front of the Clave and make a fuss out of it. I mean, I think what Adam did is illegal…."

Benjamin was quiet for a moment while Alec wallowed in his thoughts. "Look," he eventually said, "this may be _extremely _presumptuous of me, considering we've only known each other for a couple of weeks, but I'm pretty sure telling all your problems to someone you barely know is the basic concept of therapy." He shrugged again. "I mean, obviously you don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to. It's only a suggestion. Since I kind of already know… maybe you could work out what to say to Magnus or something."

Alec just looked at him. At face value, it _did_ seem preposterous, but… he didn't want his siblings' righteous fury or Magnus's well-intended attempts at comfort right now, he didn't want anyone to be angry or upset on his behalf. He just wanted someone to _listen_ to him and maybe voice all of the things Alec kept telling himself, and Benjamin seemed to tend towards blunt honesty. Besides, he already knew. _So does Magnus, probably_, he thought, _so why can't I just…._

"All right," he said abruptly, more to his own astonishment than Benjamin's. "I can't guarantee I'll be able to finish it, and I'm trusting you not to tell anyone, ever."

"You're trusting me not to tell anyone because you _trust_ me," Benjamin said wryly, "or because you know if I breathe a word, you have the ability to out me and ruin my life?"

"I'm probably the last person on Earth who'll ever out you and ruin your life," Alec said. He knew perfectly well how it felt to be outed without consent - though it had been his fault in the end, that time at Luke's house, he still thought Jace had walked him into it.

Benjamin shrugged, but he finally sat down in the desk chair with his boot in his lap. "If you say so. Well, I'm listening, then."

Alec lay back against the pillow and covered his face with his hands. For a moment, he was seized with panic - _I don't know where to begin I don't want to think about it I can't do this_ - rather than allow it to consume him, he took a few deep breaths, smoothed his rumpled hair, and focused on the ceiling. "When I was fourteen," he said, "Adam's family came to stay with us for about a week.

"That was… maybe the fourth or fifth time they'd done it. I wouldn't say I grew up with Adam, and I definitely didn't like him, but I knew him well enough." Maybe _not_ well enough, all things considered. "Jace and I were in the hall, one afternoon - I think it was the day before they left - and when Adam walked by, he made some comment about Isabelle being a slut… so I punched him. I think it surprised me more than it surprised him. Jace thought it was hilarious. And…" Alec dragged a corner of a blanket over his stomach and torqued the edge between his fingers. "I sort of had a thing for Jace back then. But Adam was watching us, and somehow he _knew_, and I think that's why he -"

Benjamin had folded his arms across the back of the chair and was listening quietly, his face unreadable. He had truly impressive control over his emotions, to always lock them down like that… or perhaps Etienne's death took away everything but the anger and the emptiness. "You really don't have to tell me this, if you don't want to," he said.

Alec shook his head. "I _have_ to." It was a bit like forcing yourself to vomit after accidentally ingesting something toxic – that had happened to him a few times during demon fights when there was poisonous blood splattering everywhere, and it was miserable for a minute, and then it was done and he felt better. He took a few seconds to gather himself, and continued, "Adam told his mother I hit him, she told _my_ mother, and Mom didn't believe her. I hadn't punched him hard enough to really leave a mark. But it made him angry. And that night, after he'd come back from wherever he'd wandered off to, he came to my room."

"And he hurt you," Benjamin said softly when Alec didn't continue. "You told me that much."

Swallowing hard, Alec pressed his palms against his eyes. He thought he might be shivering, but he felt strangely detached from his body. "He was stronger than me," he managed to say. "He was a year older and he'd been training longer, and he caught me off-guard. He - I think he hit me in the head with something - he put a Quietude rune on me so I couldn't scream. I tried to cut him, to make him stop, but it didn't work - he didn't heal himself soon enough, so it scarred - and once I was too dizzy to fight and couldn't call for help…" His breath hitched. _Just say it, just say it, if you can't say it to someone whose opinion you care nothing about, how can you say it to Magnus?_ "He raped me."

There. He'd said it out loud. _Worst part's over._ The words were there and he could neither take them back nor claim they were untrue.

"I don't actually remember that." His voice was barely a whisper. "I guess I blocked it out. I remember he healed me, afterwards. And he smiled at me." Dropping his hands down to his sides, Alec sucked in a breath, released it. _The worst part is over._ "And then I made myself forget. I couldn't live with what he'd done to me, so I convinced myself it hadn't happened, it was only a nightmare. I didn't even remember any of it until, what, two weeks ago? Although, maybe that's not true - I didn't ever _really_ manage to forget. I was just in denial." He finally looked at Benjamin again. Benjamin's expression hadn't changed, but maybe there was the faintest spark of sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Benjamin blinked. "Wait, why are you apologizing to _me_?"

"If Adam was the one who killed Etienne, then it's because I didn't stop him when I had the chance. If I'd told someone…." Alec sighed and returned to staring at the ceiling. He had goosebumps all over his arms. He suddenly wished Magnus was here to give him a hug. "It's my fault."

"I don't blame you," Benjamin said, after a long minute had passed. "It wasn't your fault. Any of it."

"I provoked him," Alec said dully.

Benjamin actually snorted, much to Alec's shock. "So you punched him _once_, that's all. Don't you think he had kind of an extreme reaction? I mean, Anita Seelenfreund slapped me a few years ago, but I didn't follow her home, kill her parents, and set her house on fire. Normal people _don't react like that_. He's a lunatic. There's no possible way it was your fault."

Swept with a strange, sharp sense of relief, Alec shut his eyes. _Adam raped me. I was fourteen, he was stronger than me, he caught me off-guard and hit me in the head and placed a Quietude rune on me so I couldn't scream, and then he raped me. And it maybe it wasn't_ _my fault._ There. That was a start. "Now what?" he wondered out loud.

"We could kill Adam."

"As tempting as that is, we can't actually kill him," Alec said, sitting upright. Benjamin's brows knit. "First, we don't know where he is. Second, and more importantly, his parents deserve to know what the hell he was thinking when he murdered his little sister. When he's found, he'll go to the Clave for a trial."

"I don't think that's going to be quite as satisfying," Benjamin muttered.

"No, but it's what's _right_."

For a while, they just sat there in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Alec kept feeling wild, giddy thrills, like he'd solved world hunger instead of done something as simple as admitting he had been raped. Repeating the story to Magnus suddenly seemed like more of a large hill he had to climb instead of a mountain. Benjamin at last remembered he was still holding a shoe and stood up, pulling Alec's attention with him. "I really need to find my other boot."

"Okay," Alec said, and Benjamin left. No standing on ceremony, no awkward words of comfort, no promises to keep silent. Alec knew he wouldn't tell. Maybe Magnus had been right, that time he'd said that there were some people you just clicked with. He leaned over, picked up his phone, and dialed. "Hey."

"How'd it go?"

Alec blinked, then smiled - he should've known Magnus would work it out. "All right."

"Are you okay?"

That was a loaded question. Alec had flipped out every time someone walked into his room without warning, still panicked at the mere thought of closing anything around his wrists, and the possibility of falling asleep and having nightmares filled him with dread… but he'd opened his mouth and said _he raped me_, and the world hadn't collapsed around him. "Not yet," he said, "but eventually."

* * *

So... if you're planning to mob up and hunt me down, wait! I'm prepared to offer you a fabulous deal! Leave me a review on this chapter, and I'll post seventeen - the one where suddenly the plot kicks into overdrive - tomorrow. :D

(will it help if I promise the thing you all _really_ want does happen before the end?)


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

Flashback time! Once again, no explicit sex, but there is the lead-up to and immediate aftermath of a rape.

**Notes: **Did you guys forget there was an actual plot to this fic? Well, never fear - things are going to start happening pretty quick from the end of this one, since there's only five chapters (and the epilogue) left! My baby's growing up. ;A;

Anyway, this is the long-awaited flashback chapter. No Magnus, I'm afraid, but you will get to see a bit of a familiar cat some of you adore... enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

"Go to bed," Maryse said when Alec walked into the kitchen that night.

Alec blinked at her. He blinked at the clock on the wall, which read **10:58**. He blinked at her again. "What?"

"Go to bed," Maryse repeated. She closed the refrigerator and turned around to face him. "It's nearly eleven and you've been sick."

"I wasn't sick," Alec protested, but he had no room to back away when she swept up to him and placed her hand on his forehead. "I just hadn't been sleeping. I've been feeling better since this morning."

"And you're still not sleeping," she said tartly. "I don't know why, and I don't expect you to tell me, but you will not go on like this. It's late. Go to bed."

"Okay, okay." Alec opened a cabinet for a glass and filled it with ice, vaguely annoyed by his mother forcing him to bed. The upside of staying at Magnus's, aside from getting to be around his boyfriend, was a refreshing lack of parents who forgot he wasn't twelve years old anymore.

"And don't take that tone with me."

_Wow_, Alec thought, fleeing as soon as he had his water, _someone's in a terrible mood_. Maryse was probably beginning to chafe at the unexciting routine of sleeping, resting, and slowly recovering from her bout of pneumonia. He shut himself in his bedroom and sat down on his bed, almost hesitantly. This had been his bed since they'd moved here when he was about two - it was big and warm, covered in more blankets than he could ever possibly need in the temperature-controlled Institute, scattered with cat hair and glitter - but he was suddenly very aware that it was the place where he'd been held down and raped. Setting his glass aside, he ran a hand over the comforter. _You were raped here once. But you also had thousands of dreams, thousands of nightmares, Isabelle and Max and even Jace have all slept in here at one time or another, your mother used to sit here and sing to you when you were a little kid, you snuck Magnus in with you a couple of times…._ Suppressing a grin at that last memory, he threw the covers back and climbed in.

Still, once he lay down and let his mind wander, he started to feel exactly the way he had after his conversation with Magnus ended - strangely lost. _What now? _he'd asked, and Benjamin hadn't had a satisfying response. It was stupid, but now that he'd admitted the truth, both to himself and to someone else, he'd sort of hoped everything would just be… better. He had still caught himself inspecting his reflection in the bathroom mirror after dinner, though, searching for anything that might scream 'hey, I just remembered I was sexually assaulted when I was fourteen!' to any passing bystanders. He'd still gotten dangerously close to another panic attack earlier. He was still terrified of the impending horror he'd experience if he let himself fall asleep. It had seemed so simple when he'd thought all he needed to do was tell somebody what had happened to him, but apparently there was no clear list of obstacles to overcome. Alec couldn't just check off 'nightmares', 'anxiety attacks', 'talked to someone about it' and then declare himself cured. _ Where do I go from here? What am I supposed to do next?_

Those thoughts swirled around and around in his head until they twisted into his nightmare.

The knife was in his hand again, slipped beneath the pillow where Adam would not see him grasp it. Adam didn't even spare him a second glance - he knew Alec could not produce so much as a whimper, and, confident in his ability to keep the other boy under control, had trapped only one of Alec's arms against the mattress. _Idiot_. He hadn't put much thought into this plan of his.

Adam glanced up, a smile curling his pale lips, and Alec swung the knife at his throat. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he was dreaming, knew it was fruitless - the blade sliced through skin, though Adam's necklace. The leather broke, the pendant bounced off the mattress and clattered to the floor, and Adam snapped Alec's wrist like it was made of twigs.

Alec woke up screaming. Something was wrapped around his arm, and with a flare of terror he jerked away, kicked out at it before realizing it was just a blanket. When he grabbed for his witchlight, he struck the glass of water by accident and it hit the floor and shattered, splashing liquid everywhere. The stone's rays flashed around the room, revealing… no one. He was alone. Not even Maryse had come to check on him, this time.

Groaning, shivering all over as the sweat coating his skin began to dry, he rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow. _These _fucking_ nightmares, _he thought viciously. His eyes burned with frustrated tears he had no intention of shedding. The dreams terrified him, they made him nauseous, they shoved his worst memory into his face over and over again. They weren't _helping_.

Alec sat up very suddenly.

The thought was gone before he could catch it, but for just an instant, he'd had a realization. He cursed out loud and scrubbed his fingers through his damp hair, trying to force his brain into a reboot. It had been important, he knew, something in that nightmare. Alec looked around the room, searching for a clue, for anything that could trigger that revelation again….

His gaze landed on his stele. He had been taught Memory runes as a child, sitting with Hodge in the library, watching his tutor sketch them on lined paper just to show him the process. "This is the most common one," Hodge had said, handing Alec the page. Alec was only able to look at it, run his fingers over the lines - he'd been about eight at the time, much too young for Marks - but it suddenly stood out in his mind like a flashing neon WALK sign.

There were no runes that could uncover repressed memories - Alec would need a Silent Brother for that, and they unnerved him enough already without having one poking through his mind. But he didn't think he would have to delve too deep into the actual memory. If it had been in his nightmare, it was something he could remember. All he would need was one rune, enough to sharpen and clarify details he'd built scar tissue over for four years, to tell him what was locked away in his head, beating at the cellar door.

He reached for the stele, then pulled back.

_I don't want to do this. I don't want to live through it again._

_You owe Alanna this much. It's your fault she's dead_, Alec reminded himself. He picked up his stele. Clenching his fingers around it so they wouldn't shake, he ran the tip of his stele over the inside of his arm, and the lines of the rune Hodge had taught him unfurled across his skin like dark ribbons. He closed his eyes. _Remember_.

And he remembered.

It was so late it was technically early morning, and he knew he'd be in trouble if his mother happened to notice the strip of light beneath his door, so Alec had turned out all the lamps in his room except the little one on the nightstand and stuffed a dirty t-shirt in the crack between door and floor. Many a late-night book had been read in this fashion. He was stretched out on his mattress, balancing a book upright on his stomach, his toes pressed into his cat's warm fur. Olivia kindly tolerated this treatment and contorted herself into impossible positions to lick her back leg. Since they had guests, Hodge wouldn't be expecting them early for class, and tonight Alec didn't even have to worry about falling asleep during math… of course, he usually fell asleep during math anyway, because Hodge's voice tended to drop into a passionless drone that reminded Alec of the sound the dishwasher made.

When the door abruptly swung open, Alec jerked upright guiltily, expecting his mother - but his excuse about not being able to sleep quickly died in his throat. Adam Ashdown stood in the doorway, tapping his fingers against the frame, face blank.

Alec did not like Adam. Aside from the fact that the boy had called Izzy a slut earlier, there was just something _off_ about him. He got angry over the stupidest things, like Jace being able to thoroughly trounce him in the training room. Jace could kick anyone's ass without breaking a sweat, and Isabelle had mentioned that, but Adam had fumed about it for an entire day. And sometimes, when he smiled… Alec involuntarily recalled turning around in the hallway, feeling rather proud of himself for punching Adam, and seeing that _smirk_ on Adam's face. If he'd had to put words to it, they would be _I'm going to get you for that._

But here, in the middle of the night, with a leaf caught in his dark brown hair, Adam did not seem _quite_ so intimidating. The part of Alec's mind where he allowed himself to appraise other boys like works of art concluded that he really wasn't bad-looking, and the muscles helped. Too bad his personality was abhorrent. "You know," Alec said irritably, "my five-year-old brother knows how to knock."

Adam said nothing. He stepped inside, closed the door, and leaned against it. Alec glared at him. "Seriously, get out."

"Nah," Adam said mildly, his gaze sweeping the room. When his attention landed back on Alec, there was a strange light in his eyes. "I didn't think you, of all people, would be the one to punch me. I assumed it'd be your brother. Thought you were too weak to hit anyone."

Alec just rolled his eyes. Olivia had gotten to her feet and stretched when the door opened, and now her hackles stood up. This wasn't unusual, since Olivia despised everyone except him, but Adam's looming presence had started something writhing in the pit of Alec's stomach, and Olivia's clear agitation wasn't making him feel any less nervous. Nevertheless, he said, "Look, I live with Jace. He insults me about sixteen times a day - more, when he's in a good mood - and he's actually clever about it. If _you're_ trying to insult me, you're going to have to do better than _that_." Shaking his head, he returned his attention to his book.

He knew, an instant later, that he shouldn't have taken his eyes off Adam. Adam moved like a bolt of lightning - one moment, he was braced against the door; the next, he had a hand over Alec's mouth and the other twisted in his hair and he _slammed_ Alec's head against the edge of the headboard.

Lights exploded behind his eyes. For an instant, he blacked out. When he came around again, ears ringing, a white-hot sizzle of pain burning across his forehead, Adam had a hold of each of Alec's wrists and was sitting comfortably on his hips.

_What the - _but he couldn't voice the words with no air in his lungs. Adam leaned down, smiled like a piranha, and said, "You know why I'm doing this, don't you?" as chipper as if he was announcing his birthday party. Then, releasing a wrist - Alec's hand automatically flew to his head, probed the broken skin - he tugged at the top of Alec's t-shirt and bit his collarbone.

The pain didn't register over the brilliant thrum of fear that resonated in his aching skull as Alec realized Adam's intentions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blurry movement. Olivia, hissing and spitting, backed herself through the gap of Alec's open closet door. _Good_, he managed to think, _get away from him - _ So dizzy he thought he'd pass out again, he tried to buck Adam off, but the other boy outweighed him by a good forty pounds and didn't budge. Jace was just down the hall, Alec recalled foggily, _if I scream, he'll come._

He only managed a faint whine. Adam punched him in the stomach nevertheless. "_Shut_ _up_," he snapped. "Shut up and don't scream. If you scream, I'll kill you."

It all passed in a hazy blur after that - the rune, the pillow, the knife, the necklace - that stupid dragon pendant hit the floor with a _thunk_ - Alec thrashed, pinned like a butterfly - Adam hummed, so softly it was nearly inaudible, and dipped his fingers below the waist of Alec's jeans -

And then the memory… _skipped_, like a scratched record, over the parts that Alec had buried too far down to recall. There were flashes of images, feelings, pain, all of them weaving together into a half-remembered horror until the memory picked up again.

It was over. It was over and Alec was huddled against the headboard, silent and numb. Adam had perched on the edge of the bed and was twirling Alec's stele between his fingers thoughtfully. When he leaned forward again, Alec jerked away. "Oh, stop it," Adam said in a bored voice, pressing the stele to Alec's shoulder and scrawling an _iratze_ on his skin. There was blood all over Adam's neck and shirt, but he hardly seemed to notice. "There, all better." He smiled. "Bet you won't hit me again."

_Was that really all this was about? _ He should run now, go for help. His legs wouldn't move. Adam's fingers brushed against his cheek. "See, I like it much better when people are afraid of me," he said, as if Alec had asked for the inner workings of his mind. "I can see how you look at Jace," he continued in a hushed voice, and, despite himself, Alec stared at him. "So, in a way, this wasn't really even a punishment, was it? I just gave you what you wanted." He stood; his hand snaked out, grabbed Alec's chin, forced him to look up. His voice lost the sweetly mocking tone and dropped into its usual cold harshness. "Maybe you won't want it anymore, you _freak_. Now listen - you _shut up._ If you tell _anyone_ - if they'll even believe you didn't want it - I swear on the Angel, I'll find out if I can make your pretty little sister cry too."

Adam let go. He dusted his hand off on his jeans, stuck it into his pocket, and strolled out like they'd just been having a friendly chat.

Alec flung a blanket around his shoulders, curled in on himself, and screamed, soundless, until his throat hurt.

When something skittered across the floor, he jerked upright so fast he banged into the headboard again. But it was only Olivia, having crept out from the closet now that the coast was clear - she was batting Adam's pendant around. Alec watched, dull and detached, as she smacked it right beneath the wardrobe. She poked her paw under it a few times, then gave up.

"Olivia," he whispered. The Quietude rune was starting to wear off. The word felt like it was being ripped from his throat. She looked at him, twitched an ear, and bounded up onto the trunk at the foot of the bed before delicately picking her way over the covers. As soon as she was within reach, he swept her into his arms and…

Alec only noticed he'd clawed his way out of the memory when he realized someone was whimpering. He slapped himself across the mouth and the sound cut off. There was blood on his fingers, he discovered, on his mouth where he'd bitten clean through his lip, on his chin, on his arm. He had gouged his fingernails into the inside of his forearm and raked his skin open, destroying the rune, taking him out of his mind. His face was wet.

_There, I did it,_ he thought, and clamped a hand over his lips again when he gagged. There was nothing in his stomach to make a return appearance. He drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them, shivering, sticky with sweat, and tried not to think for a while, battling the urge to start crying and never stop. Alec wasn't even really a crier. There just didn't seem to be any other way to purge the nightmares from the folds of his brain. _That was useless! _he screamed at himself, gripping his hair. _Why did you put yourself through that hell again? It didn't help at all!_

_Oh -_

_Oh, but maybe it did._

He lifted his head off his knees and looked across the room. The wardrobe stood innocently in the corner, one door half-open, the arm of a sweater dangling from its insides. It was the same one all of the spare rooms held. Alec had never seen a need for anything more fancy - or anything bigger, unlike Isabelle, who owned more clothes than she could conceivably wear in a month. That wardrobe had been there as long as he could remember. And, four years ago, Olivia had swatted Adam's dragon pendant around the floor like a toy. Adam had loved that necklace. He'd been wearing it ever since the very first time Alec met him. He had left the room without retrieving it, and it ended up lost to the shadows beneath the wardrobe.

What if it was still there?

* * *

Please review, and I'll only make you wait until Monday for the next chapter. :D


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **Suddenly, stuff happens!

Props to those of you who figured out the necklace clue ahead of time. And apologies to those of you who wanted more Magnus - he's got a bit in this chapter, but we're not going to be properly seeing him again for a while.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

There was a gap of about an inch between the bottom of the wardrobe and the floor. Wishing the legs holding it up were slightly taller, Alec shoved his hand beneath it, but he could only reach so far before the skin on his knuckles was threatening to peel off on the sharp edge of the wood. When he pulled his hand back out, his fingers were filthy. _Well,_ he thought grimly, _at least that means nobody's cleaned under here while I wasn't around to protest._

Plan B was only marginally more successful. He grabbed an arrow - the longest thing in sight that could still fit in the narrow space - and scraped at the ground below the wardrobe, mostly unearthing so much dust his eyes started to water. In the very back corner, however, he could feel the arrowhead bump over something against the wall that probably wasn't supposed to be there - but the arrow wasn't quite long enough to scoop it out. Cursing, Alec turned on his desk lamp, set it on the ground, and angled it so he could see into the shadows - and then realized he'd have to shove his head a few inches into the floor to actually be able to get a good look under there. "Oh, come _on_!" he complained of no one in particular. The wardrobe was in the corner, so it couldn't be pushed out of the way, and he knew from experience that moving it out from the wall was damn near impossible since it was so heavy.

Alec kicked the wardrobe. Then he got up, left his bedroom, stormed down the hall, and pounded on a door.

Maybe it was because he'd clearly been asleep and was too groggy to look blank, but Benjamin's expression when he peeked out and saw Alec was downright comical. Alec realized a bit too late that he was covered in filth, there was blood on his face and his arm and his hands, and his eyes were probably red from when he'd been bawling at that stupid memory - perhaps that was why Benjamin sounded like he did not entirely want to know the answer when he said, "Can I help you?"

"Sorry for waking you," Alec said, trying in vain to dust off his shirt, "but yes, you can. Come with me." Benjamin simply blinked and followed willingly. Once they were in Alec's room, Alec pointed to the wardrobe and explained, "I need help moving that."

"Let me get this straight." Benjamin rubbed his eyes. "You woke me up at one in the morning because you wanted to rearrange your furniture?"

"Just give me a hand, okay?" Alec said impatiently. He still felt rattled, but now he was _wired_, like he'd drunk eight cups of coffee and chased them with that nasty green energy drink Magnus liked. "Watch the glass, by the way."

Benjamin sighed and nimbly picked his way around the remains of the glass still scattered across the floor. "All right, what do you need me to do?"

It said something about the wardrobe's bulk that it took two adult Shadowhunters to budge it. Benjamin's fingers were a tad slimmer, so he slid them between the wardrobe and the wall and pulled, while Alec yanked at the ridge of wood inside, above the doors, hoping he wouldn't break it. Bit by bit, they dragged the wardrobe away from the wall. It got easier once the gap behind was bigger, and within five minutes, there was enough room for Alec to stick his arm back there and fumble around in a centimeter of dust.

In that back corner, his fingers met something small. He picked it up, brought it out to the light, and his heart leapt into his throat.

"What is that?" Benjamin asked, leaning down to inspect the little black dragon.

"It was Adam's," Alec said. Some part of him didn't even want to be touching the thing, but he cleaned it off on his shirt nonetheless. "When I tried to cut him, I caught his necklace, and it broke… my cat batted this under the wardrobe."

"And you didn't see fit to mention this before now?"

"I didn't remember. I had to use a Memory rune." Alec straightened up, still clutching the dragon pendant. "We might be able to track him with this." Benjamin's eyebrows rose. "He _always_ wore it, every time he came to visit. I don't know if he ever took it off. It's been four years, though…."

"Well," Benjamin said, seating himself in the desk chair, "if it doesn't work, then all we've lost is an advantage we didn't expect to gain in the first place."

Alec stared at him. "That's… probably the most reasonable thing I've ever heard."

Benjamin shrugged. "I try," he said. He did always seem to know the _exact_ thing to say, though Alec sometimes wondered if he actually meant any of it, or if he'd just learnt most of his social skills through rote memorization. He wasn't really the most exciting person to talk to. His eyes, locked onto the dragon in Alec's palm, were glittering. Alec picked up his stele and sat on the bed. Jace and Magnus had tried to use Valentine's family ring to track him, seven years after the man had last touched it - it hadn't worked, Alec knew, but that was because Valentine had been over water. He closed his fingers around the pendant and turned his hand over to draw the rune on the back. If this lead didn't pan out, he decided, he was going to let himself have that breakdown he'd been dancing along the edge of for days.

Alec shut his eyes, and the image unfolded before him.

He was standing in what appeared to be an unlit bar. Alec didn't frequent many bars - that was really more Jace's scene - but the long counter flanked by high stools and the shelves stacked with bottles were a big clue as to his location. The bottles were clouded and dirty, though, as was the bar top, and the only light came from the streetlamp outside the grimy windows. He looked around quickly, trying to get a feel for the place. Nobody had been here for a night of drinking in a long time. Some of the tables were broken, chairs were overturned… he glanced at the door and saw a dark slab of wood hung over it. Three words were written upon the sign in stylized red letters: _**The Holy Cross**__._

_I know that name_, Alec realized, opening his eyes again. Benjamin was watching him silently. "Have you ever heard of a place called 'The Holy Cross'?"

"Sounds like a church," Benjamin said.

Alec shook his head. "I think it's a bar." And he'd seen the name before… on a glossy square of paper… pinned to Magnus's kitchen wall by one of Alec's arrows.

"I've never heard of it, then."

"I know who has." Dropping the dragon on the bed, Alec snatched up his cell phone and punched in Magnus's number. His fingers were shaking, though he was hard-pressed to figure out if it was from excitement or nerves.

Magnus answered the call with a breathy yawn. "Alec, darling, I love you very much, but I wish you'd quit interrupting my beauty sleep."

"You don't need it," Alec said, "but I need your help."

"Flattery," Magnus said. He sounded like he was grinning. "I declare myself Fairest in the Land. You may now ask anything of me."

"There's an advertisement for someplace called The Holy Cross on the wall in your kitchen, right?"

Giving another yawn, Magnus said, "Indeed, there is. I keep meaning to get rid of that pile of junk, but I always get distracted…."

Alec was glad he hadn't gotten around to it yet. "What is it?"

"It's - it _was_ a vampire bar back in the seventies. I went there with a friend a couple of times. Decent place, if a bit gloomy, and the bartender charged you extra for drinks _without_ blood in them… or for AB-, since it was rarest and thus most expensive. Don't ask me where they got human blood on tap, I don't know. Then a werewolf pack moved into the territory, there was a turf war, the pack won, and vampires generally quit coming to the area, so The Holy Cross closed down. That was… about twenty-five years ago, I think? Might be closer to thirty. There was talk of relocating to TriBeCa, but I don't believe that ever came to anything."

Mind racing, Alec got up and sifted through the debris on his desk until he found a scrap of paper. "Where is it?"

"Give me a second, I'll take a look at the ad, it's been a while -" Alec actually _heard_ the moment Magnus's brain came fully online. "Hold on… why on Earth are you asking about this?"

"Magnus," Alec said, searching for a pencil that didn't have a broken lead or wasn't ground down to a stump, "just trust me when I say I don't know yet, okay?"

Magnus sighed. "Please don't do anything stupid, love. All right, here we are." Alec scribbled down the address Magnus read off, his heart pounding in the hollow of his throat. He didn't recognize the street name, but the neighborhood was serviced by the F-line. Magnus added a few directions, then said, "Got it?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Alec, I'm serious. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't. Good night," Alec said. He ended the call a moment later and glanced at the piece of paper.

The only logical thing to do now would be wake up his parents and tell them what he'd discovered. It wouldn't be hard to convince them he'd just remembered that Adam's necklace had broken when he was in Alec's room once, and the cat had knocked it beneath the wardrobe, and the tracking rune was working on it… they'd probably be too interested in finding Adam to question it. If they thought there was something suspicious later, well, he'd have time to make up a better story. He might not even be allowed along, since Maryse was worried about the fever he'd run yesterday. It would be over soon enough and Alec would never have to see Adam again.

Deep down, however, he knew he would never be satisfied by that outcome. Some part of him craved closure, an ending to this story, even if it wasn't a happy one. _You know why I'm doing this._ Adam had said the same thing to Alanna, but Alec knew she'd known no more than he did.

Alec let his head thump against the wall and sighed. _By the Angel, I am an idiot. A suicidal idiot._

"Well?" Benjamin said, breaking into his reverie, "did you find out what it was?"

"A vampire bar."

The side of Benjamin's mouth quirked up. "A vampire bar called The Holy Cross? Was that supposed to be a bad joke, or what?"

"Beats me, I have no idea how vampires think." Alec folded the strip of paper into a small square.

"Where is it, then?"

"Jamaica," Alec said, sitting back down on his bed and toying with his phone. He could call for _discreet_ backup easily - Clary, after all, could create Portals, and he doubted Jace would really require much of an explanation beyond 'this dirtbag murdered his eleven-year-old sister'. They were all especially sensitive to that sort of thing after what had befallen Max. Still, there was a chance he'd ask why Alec was dead-set on doing this without help from the Clave, and what a can of worms that would open….

"I hope you don't mean the country."

"It's in Queens."

Benjamin gave him a _look_. Alec rolled his eyes before remembering Benjamin had never been here before, and his education didn't seem to have included the boroughs of New York City. "Queens is part of the city, although it's not _the_ city. It's accessible by the subway. And thanks, by the way," he added, "you can go back to bed now."

"I'm going to assume _that_ was a bad joke."

Alec glanced at him. "It wasn't. Just… go, and don't tell anyone about this yet, okay? I need to think."

"You lie," Benjamin said blandly. "The moment I walk out, you're going to gear up and head out there on your own. Which, I need hardly remind you, is an _impressively_ bad idea. You'll just end up dead."

"I'll end up dead if I have to watch out for you, too," Alec shot. Implying Benjamin couldn't take care of himself was a low blow, but he didn't much care right now.

"You're, what, eighteen? I'm three years older than you are, I've trained that much longer. I'm not one of your younger siblings, I don't _need_ you to watch out for me. Besides, in case you forgot, I have as much reason to hate Adam as you do." He paused, amended, "Maybe slightly less." Alec didn't bother to address that. "But I still hate him more than anything."

_And that's the reason why I can't take you along._ Benjamin was his friend, yes, and Alec trusted him, but he could not deny that there was something sharp and shattered within Benjamin that was ripping him apart from the inside. It was obvious every time their eyes met and there was simply _nothing there_. He'd stopped living after Etienne died, and Alec was honestly afraid of what might happen if Benjamin and Adam met again. Murder-suicide came to mind. "We're still not even sure if it _is _Adam you're supposed to be hating," Alec said.

"There's only one way to find out."

"You're _not coming_," Alec stressed. He opened his wardrobe, still standing at an odd angle to the wall, and searched for his gear. "This is way too personal for you."

Benjamin stood. "And it isn't for you?" he asked quietly, stepping much too far into Alec's space; the wardrobe door creaked awkwardly as Alec backed against it. "I know _exactly_ why you want to do this alone. All you did was hit him, and he _violated_ you in the worst way possible. I can't pretend to know what that's like, and I can't empathize with what you're going through now, but I know you hate him. I know you're doing this because you need to prove to yourself that he hasn't broken you."

Swallowing hard, Alec tilted his head back against the door, wondered if he was really so transparent. He could cloak it in justice for Alanna all he wanted, but Benjamin was right. Adam had barged into his room one night and walked away with Alec's virginity - not something he'd particularly valued, but it had been violent and painful and the recollection was turning Alec's life into a disaster. He wanted to look Adam in the eye and be able to say _fuck you, I'm not afraid of you_.

"If it had been Magnus who was killed -" Alec blinked, he hadn't expected Benjamin to start speaking again - "could you give up?" Benjamin pressed his lips together. "Could you just let him go?"

There was only one answer to that. "No," Alec whispered. "Never."

Benjamin stepped back. "If he hadn't been coming to help me, he would still be alive," he said in a low voice, wrapping his arms around himself.

Alec closed his eyes, sighed heavily, and reopened them, fixing Benjamin with a frown. "We can't kill him," he said.

"I know, you've already said that."

Before Benjamin could make for the door, Alec grabbed his arm. "I'm serious. We _cannot_ kill Adam. We're going to find him, arrest him, and turn him over to the Clave for trial. His parents - Etienne's parents - they deserve that much. We are not going into this to kill him."

Scowling, Benjamin said, "I _know_," and shook him off. "I'll be back in five minutes."

He returned in three, geared up and ready to go. He was very thin, Alec noticed, but twirled a throwing knife between his fingers with undeniable skill. Alec tucked the address into his pocket along with his phone, stele, and witchlight, knotted his boots, and got to his feet. He felt naked without his bow, but he knew from experience that it was next to useless in close quarters. "Be _quiet_," he said, grasping the bedroom doorknob to close it behind them, "and watch the floorboards outside of the library, they squeak."

"Is this something you do a lot?"

"There were a few weeks where I couldn't really tell anyone I was leaving to visit my secret warlock boyfriend," Alec admitted.

They crept out of the Institute, not even waking Church, who was sprawled on the living room rug, fluffy belly up. Benjamin trailed behind without saying a word as Alec led him down to the subway. "It's going to be a bit of a ride," he cautioned, taking a seat on the next train into Queens, "we're going pretty far."

Benjamin shrugged, still playing with his knife. It was a good thing they were glamoured, or the police would probably be paying their car a visit right about now. "I'm in no hurry."

Neither was Alec, honestly. This whole grand plan of taking down Adam on their own had sounded like a brilliant idea in his bedroom, but now, getting closer and closer to Adam's hideout, it was starting to seem more like a bad dream. _This isn't about you, _Alec told himself, _it's about Alanna. Stop thinking of Adam as 'the guy who raped you' and start thinking of him as 'the guy who mutilated and murdered his sister and left her body in the park for us to discover'. Find him, find out why he did such a thing, and put him away. Pretend he's Sebastian - after all, they're pretty much the same breed of psychopath, except Adam doesn't have the excuse of being more demon than human._

Despite this mental pep talk, the first thing Alec did when they got off the train in Jamaica was spend a few minutes dry-heaving over a trash can.

"Um," Benjamin said. He'd blanched and disappeared with truly impressive speed when the retching started, then crept back once Alec was just breathing harshly and gripping the edges of the can so he wouldn't fall over. "Maybe this is a stupid question, but are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Alec panted. He straightened up and raked his sweaty hair off his face.

"I can do this on my own, you know."

_Yeah, and we'll be lucky if there's so much as a body left over._ "Really, I'm fine. Besides, you don't know where we're going."

Benjamin shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets as they started walking again. "I just had a thought," he said while Alec consulted the directions Magnus had provided him with, "how are we planning to restrain Adam once we find him? Are we just going to hit him really hard in the head until he passes out?"

"Tempting as that sounds, no. A few months ago, Jace was - I guess 'arrested' is the right word, although she was a complete bitch about it - by the woman who was Inquisitor at the time. She used a rune to bind his hands. We thought it might be useful, so he and I practiced it on each other until we had it down."

"Well, if you enjoy that sort of thing," Benjamin said mildly.

By the time Alec realized what he'd been insinuating, they were already on the right street, and it was well past the point where he could've made a witty remark - not that any were coming to mind. He let it go and shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. Benjamin was looking over Alec's shoulder. "It should be down here, somewhere," Alec said, giving the area a once-over. Rows of crowded, three- or four-story buildings, about par for the course in this part of Queens.

"It's right behind you."

Alec spun around. Just as Benjamin had said, he was standing in front of a tall, abandoned building with _**The Holy Cross **_written on a half-moon sign next to the door. The windows were so dirty he couldn't see into the bar, but there was a sheet of paper taped to the inside of one pane - **For Sale**. It certainly looked like it had been abandoned for over twenty-five years.

"Why here?" Benjamin wondered, glancing up and down the street. People were still wandering, further along the sidewalks, even though it was the middle of the night.

"It makes sense, in a way." No mundanes would peel the glamour off the building that had once housed a vampire bar. There wouldn't be any kids breaking in on dares, or homeless people squatting, or even anyone calling the number in the window unless they were from the supernatural contingent. Adam might have been here for months and nobody would've ever known. _Why_ he was still here, after his sister's death, was the question - he could be anywhere in the world by now, yet he chose to stay here, where every Shadowhunter knew his name and his face and what he'd done. _There's no guarantee he's actually been living here, though, _he recalled, _for all we know, he's just paying the place a visit._

Slowly, he stepped up to the door. The knob was locked, but taking care of that was as easy as scratching a rune onto it with his stele. When he tried it again, it turned easily. Alec looked back - Benjamin was right behind him, eyes steady and as bright as silver coins - took a breath, and opened the door.

It was the place the tracking rune had shown him. In real life, though, it didn't look merely disheveled - a tornado could run through the building and tidy it up a bit. Tables weren't just broken, they were cleaved clean in half or shattered like glass. There _was_ glass on the ground, too, from bottles and cups that had been broken decades ago. Three parallel gouges scored the floorboards from the bar all the way to Alec's feet. There was something weird about the room, something Alec couldn't puzzle out.

"Was there a _war_ here?" Benjamin murmured.

Recalling what Magnus had told him about the area, Alec whispered, "There might've been." He closed the door and plucked his witchlight from his pocket. _No wonder this place is called The Holy Cross_, he thought, flashing the light over the walls, which were _plastered_ in religious imagery, mostly of the Christian persuasion. There were even a few pages that looked like they were ripped from the Bible. _Pretty sure that's blasphemous._ He'd known there were devoutly religious vampires here and there, but faced with evidence of their existence was sort of weird. It was, however, not the reason they were here. Yet the room was clearly empty but for them - he glanced behind the bar, the only place in the room where anyone could conceivably hide, and saw no one.

Benjamin waved a hand to get his attention, his own witchlight held aloft. "Check out the floor," he said quietly.

Alec glanced down, and suddenly understood what struck him as strange about The Holy Cross. While everything in the room was dustier than the space below his wardrobe, the floorboards had been swept clean. No footprints, but glaring evidence someone had been trying to hide their comings and goings. He looked up again and followed Benjamin's gaze to the deeply scratched door behind the counter. Benjamin shrugged at him, came closer, and opened it before Alec could tell him not to.

Nobody lurked beyond, but there was a short corridor housing a staircase - two, in fact, one leading up, the other leading down, exposed by the ajar basement door.

"I'll go up, you go down," Benjamin said.

"Wait -" but Benjamin was already on the move, taking the steps silently. Alec swore under his breath and slipped into the hallway. More than ever, now, he wished he'd called Jace. With his _parabatai_, there was no guesswork, nothing unexpected - he always knew where Jace was in a fight, and could rely on him to have his back. And he'd left his next best option at home, asleep in her bed, unaware of what her stupid brother was up to. _Idiot!_ Benjamin was a wildcard. Alec had known bringing him along was a terrible idea, and he'd let himself be manipulated into it anyway. He was about to follow Benjamin up, instructions be damned, when he noticed a faint, flickering light at the bottom of the basement stairs.

Alec stared at it, motionless, momentarily unable to breathe. There was another door down there, he realized, barely visible in the glow from his witchlight, and the room beyond that had a light on.

_Damn it_. He couldn't risk shouting for Benjamin. Biting his aching lip, Alec began descending the stairs, an inactive seraph blade in hand. The light in the room at the bottom of the stairs was dim and stuttered every so often. _I can't do this_, was his first wild, panicky thought, _I can't see him again -_ followed closely by a sterner _Tough. Suck it up. You don't have a choice, anymore._

His hand still shook when he reached out and pushed the door open.

* * *

Oh noes, a cliffhanger! Please review, and I'll only make you wait until Wednesday - otherwise, who knows how long I'll leave you on the edge... :D


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **More stuff happens! I'm rubbish at writing action scenes (*has horrible flashbacks to Avarice*), so forgive me if this chapter isn't up to snuff.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

The basement was empty.

Alec automatically glanced behind the door, but nobody had concealed themselves there for a surprise attack. He pushed it all the way open until it was flat against the wall and stepped inside.

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected - a dungeon, maybe - but it was just a very ordinary room, windowless, the floor plan interrupted only by three pillars that stood in a neat row and divided the room into two distinct parts. Where Alec stood, he was surrounded by rickety shelves. A few were still stacked with boxes or bottles, most were bare, one had fallen over. There was a faint odor of stale liquor that made him wrinkle his nose.

The other side of the room, however, was what caught his interest. The light he'd spotted was emitting from two dim, cracked lamps placed atop overturned crates. Alec checked the stairwell again, just to be sure no one was sneaking up on him, and crossed the floor, knuckles pressed against his sternum as he willed his heart to slow down. _He's not here_. When he reached the back of the basement, he discovered five beds lined up against the wall. He stared at them for a moment, trying to work out their purpose, before he recalled the sort of place he was in - what else could the owner do with intoxicated vampires who stayed past sunrise? He'd lose a great deal of customers if he just tossed them out into the daylight to burn.

Four of the beds were so dusty Alec would sneeze for a week if he disturbed the covers, but the one against the wall was visibly cleaner, and the blanket was turned back.

_He's not here. But he has been._

Glancing around, Alec could now see other evidence of recent inhabitation - a half-empty bottle of water, a sweatshirt hanging from a hook, an uneaten apple next to the lamp on the nearby crate. And just in case he was considering some other species, the seraph blade propped against the wall. Either some down-on-their-luck Shadowhunter had stumbled across this place and decided to hang out for the interim, or he had, indeed, located Adam's hiding place.

_But why here?_ Alec wondered, walking over to retrieve the seraph blade. No need to leave a weapon where Adam could potentially misuse it. _Alanna is dead, he got what he came here for. Why didn't he leave afterwards? He must have been confident that we would never figure out -_

Upstairs, there was a shout. Alec jumped so high he nearly achieved orbit, knocked the crate behind him over, and the wobbly lamp smashed against the tiled floor. A curse escaped his lips before he could swallow it. In the still, deafening silence that followed, his pulse hammered against his eardrums as he listened for any more cries, anything that could tell him what had happened. _Was that Benjamin? Was it Adam? Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have let him go up there alone!_ Grabbing the seraph blade, he shoved it through his belt and headed for the door, not wanting to be trapped down here without an alternate exit.

A stair creaked.

Alec froze, like a mouse in the shadow of a hawk, before he even reached the pillars.

_It's Benjamin. _It had to be Benjamin. At this point, Alec didn't even care if he really _had_ killed Adam - hell, _Sebastian_ could walk through that door and Alec would be happy to see him for the first time in his life, if confused about how he'd come back from the dead. Just not Adam. Anyone but Adam. He closed his eyes for a moment, fought down the fear - entirely unbecoming in a Shadowhunter - and opened his eyes again.

His nightmare stood in the doorway, a lit seraph blade dangling from his fingers. The side of the blade was painted with blood.

Alec's lungs seized up. Jace would've had a witty remark for this moment, something to prove he was as arrogant and unafraid as ever. Alec had never been arrogant, and he had never been more afraid.

"Oh," Adam said irritably, mouth twisting, "I suppose I should've expected _you_. I was wondering why I was suddenly getting a craving to bang your sister."

The non sequitur battled through the fog clouding Alec's brain and demanded _what?_ Alec just stared at Adam, uncomprehending, until the memory rose up in his mind's eye - _If you tell _anyone_ - if they'll even believe you didn't want it - I swear on the Angel, I'll find out if I can make your pretty little sister cry too._ He couldn't resist a shiver. "You -" Alec's voice came out depressingly small - "you stay the _hell_ away from her."

Adam rolled his eyes and walked further into the room. "Relax, I don't even _want_ your sister. She's not like you. I'd be wasting my time on her."

Alec didn't realize he'd been backing up until he hit the wall. Adam paused by the pillars, eyes bright with amusement. He looked… very much the same as he had last time they'd met, yet somehow different. His hair was still dark brown and a bit of a mess, his face was the same shape, he moved with the same swift fluidity - but in Alec's memories, he was taller, stronger, terrifying. If they stood side-by-side now, they would be the same height. And while Adam still won in the sheer muscle department, Alec was no longer a scrawny fourteen-year-old who'd spent only two years getting his butt kicked in the training room.

Yet Adam also still smiled, and in that smile was every bit of terror he'd gleefully extracted from his victims. Alec almost clawed his way up the wall. _You can't let him see that you're scared. He gets off on that sort of thing, you know that better than anyone _- but he couldn't slow his heartbeat or his breathing, nor could he force his limbs to stop feeling like jelly. His mouth was so dry he couldn't swallow. "What did you do to Benjamin?" he managed to say.

"Who?" Adam's eyes darted upwards. It would've been the perfect moment to catch him off guard, if Alec could move. "Oh, him? He's probably dead. If not, I'll finish him off later. I was more interested in seeing who was wrecking my stuff."

Alec tightened his fingers around his seraph blade. _Do it. Do it now, while he's busy talking._

"So are you here to kill me, or… what's up with this?" Adam said, perfectly casual, as if this was a social call. He gave his own blade a distasteful look and wiped the blood off on the edge of a shelf. The blood - _Benjamin's_ blood, because Alec had failed him too - dribbled down the wood and puddled in a crevice. There was blood on Adam's shirt, as well, which appeared to be originating from a deep furrow in his left shoulder. _Throwing knife – at least he put up a fight._

"I'm not going to kill you." He certainly wanted to. Looking at him, beneath the current of fear that was trying to pull him under and drown him, there was a well of anger and loathing that had been secretly boiling ever since the night Adam had raped him. Alec was afraid. He was _terrified_. But this boy had violated and traumatized him so badly Alec had repressed all the memories as quickly as possible so he wouldn't crack and kill himself and _Alec hated him_. Reaching past the fear, he did what Jace would've done - he grabbed onto that hate, wrapped it around himself like a cloak, and pushed off the wall. "I'm here to arrest you for murdering Alanna Ashdown. Your _sister_."

Adam sighed. "Yeah, that figures. I guess I'll just kill you now instead of later." He lifted the seraph blade, inspected it for an instant - and, quick as a blink, he lunged.

Adam was every bit as fast as Alec remembered him being, but Alec was furious _and_ scared out of his mind, both of which lent him speed. He twisted out of the way at the last second and forced Adam to pull up short before he slammed into the wall. Whispering, "_Temeluchus_," Alec raised the blazing blade and prepared for the next lunge.

It didn't come. Adam was still, just out of striking distance, regarding Alec with curiosity.

_That's new_, Alec thought, suppressing the instinctive desire to escape Adam's gaze. When Adam had stayed at the Institute four years ago, he'd been all bluster and great, sweeping movements, no subtlety at all. It took Jace less than two minutes to divest him of his blade and send him down to the mat. Adam had claimed to be one of the best fighters in his class - which may very well have been true, he certainly wasn't unskilled - but Jace was undeniably prodigious, and Adam was irate at being so easily defeated by a boy two years his junior. Alec could sympathize, to an extent. It wasn't easy being average, especially when you were the oldest and expected to be the best, but Adam's fury was so ridiculous in its scope that even Alec had stopped feeling bad for him after a very short time.

Adam seemed to have finally learnt his lesson, because he was clearly recalculating. Alec was so caught up trying to figure out what he'd do next that he almost missed the slight shift in Adam's stance. Once more, he leapt aside, avoided being skewered by half an inch. Adam didn't hesitate this time, simply lunged again - and again, and again.

_He's toying with me_, Alec realized. Adam was like a cat, playing with his food before he ate it. He'd decided he couldn't outspeed Alec right now, and was just trying to tire him out, exhaust him until he made a misstep and landed right in the path of Adam's blade. The worst part was that it was a perfect strategy - Alec was running on minimal sleep and had recently come off a brief but high fever. His reserves would be spent in minutes. _Think! _he shouted at himself, dodging Adam's seraph blade and nearly slamming into a pillar. _He's not getting close enough, you have to lure him in - god, I don't want him near me - he's fast, but Jace is faster. Pretend he's Jace or Isabelle. How would you approach this if it was them?_

He would get his ass presented to him, that's what would happen. Alec's strength lay in long-range weaponry, not hand-to-hand or blade combat. He ducked a wild swing - Adam was getting frustrated, but not enough to make mistakes yet - and wished, for the millionth time, that he was a little better at fighting other people. Seven years of training with his brother and sister and he still couldn't force more than a draw from either of them, and even that came on rare occasions. Adam's blade struck a pillar instead of Alec's neck, and he swore, striking stronger, quicker -

The revelation lit Alec's brain like a beacon.

Adam was fast. Alec was _faster_, and it wasn't just the fear of having those hands on him again that propelled him. He'd toiled away in the training room for years, first against his sister - a natural Shadowhunter if there ever was one - then against Jace - stunningly gifted, with the added bonus of a hearty dose of angel blood. No, Alec couldn't beat either of them. But he was expecting Isabelle's speedy grace or Jace's strength and strategic intelligence from Adam, and Adam had none of those things. He was an average Shadowhunter.

Alec had not spent seven years learning how to fight against _average_ Shadowhunters.

Instead of avoiding Adam's next swing, Alec met it with his own blade and turned it aside _hard_. Jace would've been able to hold on, but Adam couldn't, and the seraph blade went clattering across the room. To Adam's credit, he didn't falter. He ripped a knife from his belt. Before Alec could leap fully out of his reach, Adam tore the outside of Alec's arm open from elbow to wrist.

_Shit!_ Alec stumbled back, holding his arm close to his chest - at least it was his only his left. Adam grinned. He spun the knife in his fingers - _don't waste time showing off_, Hodge's voice whispered in Alec's head_, it leaves you open_ - and threw all of his weight behind his shoulder as he rammed it into Alec's chest.

What neither of them anticipated was the lack of friction between Alec's feet and the floor. Alec's boots, so old the soles were worn smooth as glass, had no grip on the tile, and he'd not been prepared for the blow. They went down _much_ faster than Adam had intended. Alec couldn't breathe, but he caught a glimpse of Adam's face, saw the flicker of confusion -

Alec recovered first. Not because he would've assumed Jace or Isabelle could turn the rapid fall to their advantage, but because the moment Adam crashed down atop him, Alec panicked. He cried out - there might have been words, _getoffdon'ttouchmegetoffofme_ - brought his knees between them, and slammed his feet into Adam's stomach. Adam didn't have enough air to so much as grunt as he hit the ground next to Alec, facedown, momentarily stunned. Sucking air into his spasming lungs, Alec rolled up and planted a knee between Adam's shoulders. "Don't move," he rasped, knocking Adam's knife away, fumbling in his pocket for his stele.

Adam swore and thrashed like a fish on a hook. Alec cracked his elbow into the back of Adam's head, and Adam went limp and silent.

And just like that, it was over. Alec held Adam's wrists together, traced the rune he and Jace had practiced across Adam's skin, and the flaming cuffs leapt to life. Perhaps it was a courtesy the other boy didn't deserve, but he dragged Adam to a sitting position and propped him against a pillar before collapsing against another.

That was when the trembling started. He locked his fingers over his mouth so he wouldn't make a sound, slid to the floor, and shook so violently it actually hurt. _It's done,_ he told himself. _You did it. He can't hurt you now._ He had to alert the Conclave, find _some_ way of explaining this to his mother, see if Benjamin was even still alive - but he'd hardly begun to get the shivering under control when Adam groaned faintly, eyes fluttering open.

"Well?" he said as soon as he spotted Alec. "Aren't you going to kill me now?"

"I already said I wouldn't. I'm going to call the Conclave."

Adam laughed harshly. "See, if I was in your position, you'd be dead already." He lolled his head to the side, wincing. "I guess I might as well ask how the hell you even found me."

"It was easy enough," Alec said. In the back of his mind, he was proud of himself for even being capable of having this conversation - two days ago, he thought he would've run away as soon as he could. "You should have left the city a long time ago. That might've made it harder."

"Oh, but I wasn't done here yet," Adam said, stretching out his legs - Alec hadn't bound his feet, but he was reasonably certain that Adam wasn't going anywhere. And if he got it into his head, Alec was sitting between him and the door. "I still had some work left to do – the brat didn't drown in the pond, tragically, thanks to perfect little Alanna."

Alec frowned at Adam, trying to work that one out. It was a little difficult to think straight - the adrenaline comedown was making him feel dizzy and queasy, his head heavy as a sandbag. He blinked, and then it clicked, the realization carrying a surge of horror on its back. "She's _six_," Alec whispered incredulously, recalling a little girl clinging to her mother's hand in the Institute library.

Adam merely shrugged. "When _I _was six," he said, "I saw a bird in the backyard. A cardinal, I think. It fascinated me - I wanted to know how it flew, how it stayed up. I got a blanket off the porch, trapped the bird beneath it. Then I cut the bird open to see what was inside."

Revolted, Alec stared at him, hugging his knees. Adam went on, eyes darkening. "My mother _screamed _at me when she found out. She slapped me in the head a few times, dragged me inside, made me stay in my room until my father came home. She never looked at me the same after that. Do you think she ever treated either of her _perfect, precious girls _that way?"

A quip came to mind about overreacting being genetic, but Alec didn't say it. When he found his voice, he said, "So you _killed_ your sister? Just because you thought your parents _treated her better_?"

Adam smiled again, visibly amused by Alec's discomfort. "Oh, it wasn't really about her, or Lily. My parents threw me away. I was punishing _them_." His smirk widened. "Not the same way I punished _you_, of course - that wouldn't have been as effective. But it worked on you… you're still afraid."

"I'm not," Alec said, but it sounded like a lie even to his own ears. Bleeding, restrained, and defeated, and the sight of Adam was still enough to tighten his stomach into nauseating knots. "You - what you _did_ - not just to me, but to Alanna, and to your parents and Lily and _everyone_ - you're a monster. I'm a Shadowhunter. My _job_ is to put things like you down."

Adam started to say something, but the word was lost in the sound of the floor upstairs creaking. Slow footsteps began to thump down the stairs. Alec stood, a rush of relief overtaking the nerves, and said, "Benjamin?"

There was a pause. "…yeah."

"Are you okay?" Alec called, watching Adam frown. He didn't want to take his eyes off the other boy, since he still had a working pair of legs, and now he was squirming against the pillar, using his shoulders to get himself to his feet. "Sit back down, or I'll _make_ you."

"I'll live," Benjamin said from behind him. "Don't turn around."

Alec blinked, started to look over his shoulder. "What -"

Something heavy and cold crashed into the side of his forehead. The explosion of pain in his skull turned Alec's legs to wet rope and burst a thousand brilliant lights behind his eyelids - he buckled, hit the tile so hard it knocked the wind out of him, heard a groan slip between his teeth. He couldn't see. Fighting the urge to sink into the velvety blackness awaiting his arrival, he thought, _you tend to leave your back open a lot_, and would've laughed if he'd been capable of anything more complicated than moaning and writhing on the floor. _I'm such an idiot._

* * *

Oops, I appear to have left you on another, crueler cliffhanger. So how about this, my dears - leave me a nice review (or a mean one, I'm not picky) and I'll put up chapter twenty tomorrow, okay? :D


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **There are only two more chapters and an epilogue after this! *flails*

Loved the reactions from last chapter, by the way... they ranged from "DAMN YOU I LIKED BENJAMIN" to "I KNEW THAT SLIMY LITTLE BASTARD WAS UP TO NO GOOD!" Seriously, reading those reviews was the most fun I've had in ages. So what's he up to? You'll find out in this chapter... sort of. :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

Through unfocused eyes, Alec saw something metal hit the ground next to him with an ear-piercing _clang_. A piece of pipe, maybe. The blow to the head had disconnected his brain from the rest of his body and he couldn't think properly.

"I'm sorry," Benjamin said. Alec squinted up at him - everything was blurry, like a wet watercolor painting, but he could see the blood all over Benjamin's face. "You just don't understand, I _have_ to do this."

He stepped over Alec like he was nothing more than a fallen piece of furniture and walked out of Alec's line of vision. Breathing hard, feeling blood slick his fingers where he touched them to his forehead, Alec tried to force his uncooperative legs to move. The ground beneath him rocked unsteadily.

"Your friend lied to me, you know," he heard Benjamin say over the ringing in his ears. Though a litany of _get up, get up, you can't let this happen, _Alec wondered, _what friend?_

"What – oh. _Ohhhh,_" Adam said, with all the wonder and shock of one who had just discovered the meaning of life. "I remember you – you look much more familiar covered in blood. You were the one who chased me through Swamp Bottom. Nice try with the tracker."

_Swamp Bottom…? Wait, they've _met_ before?!_

"Shut up." Adam made a faint sound, like the tip of a knife had been shoved into his skin. "We're not making small talk. I followed you all the way here, and now I'm going to cut your throat."

"Pity. I'm vaguely interested in your thought process – for example, what's with _him_?" Alec attempted to turn his head, blacked out for an instant, and came back to Adam still running his mouth. "Did he tell you about his little vendetta? Or – oh, I get it," Adam said, tone bright with amusement. "He wants to arrest me, you want to kill me… so you send him down here so I can kill him, and then _you_ kill me, and everyone gets what they want. Or just you, really. I should've hit you harder."

One of his legs swung, but Benjamin had anticipated the sweep. He dodged easily and jabbed his knife – a curved, wicked-looking thing – clean through Adam's shoulder into the wooden pillar. Adam did not scream, though the sound that slithered through his teeth was very close to one.

"Shut _up_," Benjamin repeated. His voice shook on the last word. "It doesn't matter. You were at Brocelind Plain and you killed a man. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes – looked a lot like _him_. Maybe you thought it was."

"Did I?" Adam said, panting, but sounding bored nevertheless. "I think he walked into my sword -" He jerked and gasped for a reason Alec couldn't discern. Alec squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head - it hurt like hell, but when he opened his eyes, he was only seeing three of everything now. Trying not to retch, he rolled onto his stomach and gathered his legs beneath him.

"You did. You took him away from me. I _need _him, and -" Benjamin broke off. Alec forced himself into a crouch, wobbled, gagged as his stomach lurched. _Get up_, he told himself, and staggered to his feet. "You don't _deserve_ to live while he's dead. It's really too bad I have such a headache - I would've liked to do this slowly." Benjamin lifted a hand, the light from the surviving lamp glittering off another knife, and settled the blade to the side of Adam's throat. "You don't deserve to die on your feet, either, but I'll give you that much."

His hand jerked. Half an instant before the blade would've sliced through Adam's carotid artery, Alec flung himself onto Benjamin's arm. Grabbing his wrist, he twisted Benjamin's arm around his back and upwards - there was a _pop_, and Benjamin _howled_, instinctively rising to his toes to escape the pain. Alec normally would've felt bad about dislocating his shoulder, but given the concussion he'd been dealt, he couldn't really scrape up more than a molecule of guilt. He pried the knife from Benjamin's fingers, shoved it into his belt. Almost as an afterthought, he kicked Adam's feet out from beneath him and sent him to the ground again, mindless of the blade still in his shoulder. It hadn't penetrated too deeply into the pillar, anyway.

"Let_ go of me!_" Benjamin shrieked. He thrashed, slamming his uninjured shoulder into Alec's collarbone.

"You can't kill him!" Alec released Benjamin's wrist and flung both his arms around his shoulders, trying to restrain him. It was like holding onto an angry cat - Benjamin was only about as tall as Isabelle, but rage and grief had made him wild. "Stop it, _stop_!"

Benjamin tried to slam the back of his head into Alec's chin. "_Let - me - go!_" Swearing, Alec tightened his grip, doing his best to keep his balance when the ground seemed to be swaying worse than the floor of a subway car. "I'm going to kill him!"

"_You can't!_" Alec shouted.

He got an elbow to the stomach in response, which didn't do anything for the nausea. "You can live without what he took from you! _I can't!_ If you don't _let go of me -_" Finally, Benjamin got in one good blow. He slammed his boot into Alec's knee. Alec cried out and, unable to keep his balance anymore, toppled over - but he dragged Benjamin down with him. "_Let go!_"

"No," Alec panted. He'd had quite enough of this. "If you hit me again, I'm going to break your other arm. Now _stop._" Keeping a solid grip on Benjamin's good arm, he grabbed his collar and forced Benjamin to look at him. Everything was fuzzy, but for the first time, he could see real, unfiltered emotion on Benjamin's face… and he was _shattered_. He looked about a quarter-second away from either bursting into tears or screaming until his lungs gave out.

His voice, too, was still shrill and brittle when he said, "You don't _understand -_ this is all I have left -" His breath hitched. "I _need him dead!_"

_God._ Alec had known allowing Benjamin - who, despite his placid facade, was obviously unstable - into the same building as Adam was a bad idea. He still hadn't quite expected this hysteria. "And then what happens after he's dead?" he asked sharply. "What are you going to do, just keep running away? Swallow all of your emotions and go on telling yourself you don't have any? Etienne is _gone_. But I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted you to quit living too."

Benjamin was staring at him, shaking his head, eyes huge and round and glassy. "I have to kill him. I have to," he repeated, like he'd not heard a word Alec said. "He was all I had. Adam took him away, he took _everything_, I need -" Benjamin's voice broke. He shuddered, buried his face in his hand, and started to cry.

_Well,_ Alec thought, drawing Benjamin against his shoulder, _at least he didn't start screaming._ Alec had younger siblings, he could handle the crying. And, given the truly impressive amount of emotion Benjamin had been refusing to acknowledge, it was probably a good thing. Benjamin was muttering something between sobs, some incoherent screed of blame and apologies and _I need you I need you I need you he took you away from me_, but he wasn't fighting anymore.

Adam hadn't moved an inch the whole time. Alec had kept half an eye on him, figuring that if Adam was going to make a run for it, he'd do it while Alec was trying to restrain Benjamin, yet he was still sitting where he'd fallen. He was smiling. He barely seemed to know who Benjamin _was_, but he was smiling, because Benjamin was hurting so much and so deeply and Adam had made him feel that way.

Sickened, Alec looked away. Adam was a monster. Alec had hoped, somewhere deep down, that Adam felt _something_ - guilt, shame, pain - but he didn't. He had assaulted Alec, murdered Etienne, murdered Alanna, and, from the sound of it, planned to kill Lily as well. The only joy he managed came from destroying other peoples' lives. He was nothing more than a shell. The Clave would take him to trial, and Alec doubted they would need the Mortal Sword, because Adam would enjoy seeing the effect confessing his crimes would have on the audience. It would _almost_ be better to just kill him here and deprive him of that, but it still wouldn't be right.

Eventually, Benjamin calmed. Once he was just sitting there, shivering, breathing raggedly against Alec's shoulder, Alec nudged him with his elbow. "Hey," he said. He elbowed him again and Benjamin slowly straightened, looking down at his hands. Alec fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and the paper with The Holy Cross's address on it. "I need you to go upstairs and call for backup. Just hit two, it'll dial Isabelle automatically - tell her we've got Adam and she needs to bring the Clave. _Don't_ tell her how we found him." He still needed to make up a story that didn't involve what had happened to him. "Go."

For a long moment, Benjamin just stared at the things Alec had pushed into his hand, and Alec began to think he'd shut down so thoroughly that he hadn't even heard - but then he stood, a bit shakily, and started walking towards the stairs. "Thanks," Alec called after him. Although half-formed questions about the conversation between Benjamin and Adam were piling up in his head, he knew this was not the time for them. He got to his own feet, as difficult as it was. His legs felt leaden and he was still so dizzy he could hardly focus his eyes.

"Well, that was fun," Adam said.

"Oh, shut up." Alec inspected the gash on the outside of his arm. It was bleeding and looked awful, but hadn't opened anything vital, and his head was aching so badly he couldn't feel much else. "You're not even creepy anymore. You're just annoying." As Adam's smile faded, Alec took something else from his pocket and crouched, well out of Adam's kicking range, but close enough he could clearly see the little dragon pendant. "Remember this?"

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Where the hell did -"

"It was in my bedroom." Forcing his voice steady, Alec continued, "Remember that night you came into my room, held me down, and raped me? I cut your necklace and this fell off. My cat knocked it under the wardrobe. I used it to track you here."

There was a pregnant pause. Then Adam smiled again. "Oh, _now_ I remember. It was so frustrating that you weren't afraid of me… but I fixed that." He leaned forward and Alec recoiled involuntarily, which only made the grin widen. "You caught me. Congratulations. That doesn't change the fact that I marked you more permanently than any rune."

He had a point, as much as it pained Alec to admit it. Even when he'd been repressing all memory of his rape, it might have affected him in small, otherwise explainable ways. Would he have been less protective of Isabelle if it hadn't happened? Would he have been more comfortable with his sexuality? Would he have been able to admit his feelings for Magnus sooner, instead of directing them at a boy who would never reciprocate? Alec didn't know. "Maybe," he said, "but here's the thing - I've really had enough of you."

Adam blinked. Alec stood up again, shoved the dragon back into his pocket, and braced himself against a pillar until the vertigo lessened. "You made my life a lot harder, I'll give you that, but you didn't ruin it. I'll get over what you did to me. After I hand you to the Clave, I'm going back to my boyfriend's place, and I am going to sleep with him whenever the hell I want because I will _not_ let you take that away from me. You haven't broken me. You lost."

A very ugly look flashed across Adam's face, but, unsurprisingly, it was replaced by a smirk almost immediately. "So I guess if anyone asks what other naughty things I've done, I can tell them what I did to _you_, then?"

The mere thought of Adam doing such a thing was enough to make Alec sick. He fought the urge, unwilling to let Adam see what effect his words had, and coldly said, "_Go ahead._ I already told you, I'm done with you. I'm not letting you take over my life." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Face it - I'm not afraid of you."

Admittedly, it was easier to not fear Adam when his arms were bound behind his back and there was blood dripping down his neck from where Benjamin had pushed the knife into the underside of his chin. The Adam from Alec's nightmares had been a looming, terrifying figure who had taken Alec's life in his hands and dashed it against the floorboards. That Adam had pinned him to the bed, silenced him, raped him, and threatened to harm Isabelle if Alec ever breathed a word. This Adam… well, he'd not been a difficult fight, in the end. He was an empty, soulless thing. Even the pleasure he got from violence and murder was hollow. He could take and take and take but he could never give, he could never make anyone else happy, and for that…. "To be honest," Alec said, "I _pity_ you."

Adam's mouth curled into a snarl. For a moment, Alec thought he would leap to his feet and lunge - he shifted his weight in anticipation and nearly fell over as another wave of dizziness swept over him. But then Adam merely shrugged, the snarl dimming into a blank look. "Whatever," he muttered. "I'm still going to have the last laugh."

Alec settled against the pillar again, suddenly wishing he could curl up and go to sleep right now, nightmares be damned. "Who's laughing?" he said tiredly.

In the movies, backup always arrived right after the witty repartee had ended. In reality, however, Alec stood there for almost five minutes, reciting the periodic table to himself so his eyes wouldn't close of their own accord, before hearing voices up in the bar. "Isabelle!" someone said - there was a flurry of footsteps on the stairs - and Isabelle burst into the room, in full gear, golden whip in hand.

She looked from Alec to Adam and back again. And then, to Alec's quiet amusement, she _drooped_. "Are you kidding me?" Isabelle demanded, stalking over to her brother. "Should I _ask_ why you didn't invite me on this little adventure, or should I just get started on never speaking to you again?" She paused and gave Alec a once-over. "By the Angel, what happened to you?"

_Benjamin, mostly_, Alec thought. "Things got a bit rough."

At that moment, Maryse came storming into the basement, followed closely by Robert, Kadir, and two other local Shadowhunters Alec knew by sight but not name. Wondering if Benjamin had neglected to mention that Adam was neutralized, Alec said, "I'm fine," when his mother looked at him. She nodded and proceeded over to Adam, the other Nephilim behind her.

Isabelle stayed at his side. "He seemed a lot… _creepier_ in my memory," she murmured, watching Adam through a gap in the bodies.

"Tell me about it." Alec leaned his head back against the pillar. The adrenaline rush had gone entirely.

"Imagine how pissed Jace'll be when he finds out all this happened while he was putting the moves on his girlfriend in the middle of nowhere."

Alec winced. "How about we just never tell him about it? That should work out fabulously." He tried and failed to keep the room in focus as Robert hauled Adam to his feet. He felt very sick - there was a cold sweat mingling with the blood on his face - and, before he could think _wait, this isn't right_, his knees buckled.

"Alec!" Isabelle cried. Alec blinked hazily as a grey fuzz gathered at the corners of his vision. He saw Isabelle, pale and panicked, bend down to look at him - saw her hand move past his face as she called for someone - for an instant, he even thought he saw a different hand, long and slim and bedecked with far too many rings, but by the time those fingers touched his cheek, he saw nothing at all.

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Oh dear, it seems this chapter _also_ ends on a cliffhanger. Please leave a review, and I'll see you on Saturday with chapter twenty-one!


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **Nice long chapter today, to hold you for the rest of the weekend. Lots of explanation and whatnot. Also, Magnus finally makes his magnificent return.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

Something soft was tickling Alec's cheek. Frowning, unwilling to climb back up into full consciousness, Alec turned his head away from it and pressed the side of his face into the pillow. _This isn't my pillow_, he realized dimly. His pillow smelled of laundry detergent and sandalwood, not the biting odor of antiseptic. Thinking _oh, hell, I'm in the infirmary, aren't I,_ he dragged his heavy eyelids open.

Long row of identical, white-sheeted beds, separated by little tables, a large cabinet of medical supplies in the corner… yes, he was in the infirmary. Alec had no idea how he had gotten here. His memory faded to white right around the time his parents and the other Shadowhunters had come charging into the basement of The Holy Cross. He did recall feeling very nauseous and weak - had he fainted? Hoping otherwise (because that would just be humiliating), he rubbed at his eyes and found they no longer ached. In fact, his headache had been wiped clean away.

That soft thing was grazing the side of his neck now. Alec looked back and got a faceful of hair.

Once his sleepy brain had determined that no, the hair did not belong to him, yes, the hair was attached to a head, and yes, it was a familiar head, Alec rolled onto his side so he could properly see Magnus's face. The warlock was sound asleep, a hand curled beneath his chin, bare feet almost dangling off the edge of the mattress. He didn't look pale or washed out the way he did when he'd spent all his magic, to Alec's relief. Assuming he'd meandered over to fulfill his boyfriendly duty of making sure Alec hadn't cracked his head open like an egg, Alec reached up and brushed his fingers over the arch of Magnus's cheekbone.

Magnus's eyes fluttered open, which meant he had only been dozing. If he'd been truly asleep, he wouldn't have woken unless Alec slapped him with something heavy - for example, a Jeep. "He awakens," Magnus murmured with a slight smile, covering his mouth as he yawned. "Hi there, beautiful."

"Hey," Alec said quietly. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"You passed out," Magnus said candidly. Alec sighed and shut his eyes. "No need for that, it wasn't your fault. Look." Alec reopened his eyes as Magnus gently grasped Alec's left hand and turned his arm over. The gash that Adam had put there was closed, now, but it had healed into a long, raw scar that was an unnatural shade of dark purplish-red. "That knife he cut you with was coated in demon blood. _Rare_ demon blood, to boot - I asked where he got it, out of curiosity, and he said something about an ifrit in Brooklyn. Clearly, I'll need to look into _that_. But you're fine, I got there before it was fatal."

Alec frowned. "Were you there? I thought I saw…."

"Yes, I was." Magnus released his hand and absentmindedly tugged the crisp sheet up over them both. "_Right_ after I'd finally assured myself that you weren't going to do anything stupid, your sister gave me a call. She wanted me to meet her and the others at The Holy Cross because she seemed convinced you did something stupid. So I moseyed on over, and what do you know, you had indeed done something stupid. Just as I get downstairs, you collapse."

"Sorry," Alec mumbled, picking at the edge of the sheet. "I didn't know he'd poisoned me." _But it looks like you _still_ didn't get the last laugh, asshole._ He let go of the sheet, looked back to Magnus. "Where is he?"

"Adam? In the cells of the Silent City. You don't have to worry about him."

"Good," Alec said. Then he promptly thought of something else. "What about Benjamin?"

Magnus fluttered his fingers. "He's around here somewhere, I think. He was in here for a while - he did _not_ want your mother to put an _iratze_ on him - but she wore him down eventually and then he wandered away. He looked like someone had killed and eaten his pet dog."

Rather than address that - because there were clearly things Benjamin had either not told him or downright lied about, and he needed to get to the bottom of that soon - Alec said, "What is this fascination you have with people killing and eating dogs?"

"I'm from Indonesia," Magnus said, as if that explained everything. "Any other questions?"

"What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty." Alec glanced over at the dark windows and at Magnus again, who amended, "At night. You've been asleep for a while. Don't make that face, you were poisoned _and_ you had a pretty dreadful concussion, on top of your usual exhaustion."

"Yeah, I know." They were both quiet for a few minutes, Alec inspecting his scarred arm, Magnus idly running his fingers through Alec's hair. "Adam's in the Silent City," Alec said, just to hear the words from his own mouth.

Magnus touched the tender skin on Alec's forehead where he'd been struck with the pipe. "Yes," he said. "He is. You put him there - impulsively, and with absolutely _no_ concern for your own safety - but you did it, you brilliant boy. I'm so proud of you."

"_Stop_," Alec moaned, yanking the sheet up over his flushed face and trying not to grin like an idiot.

Magnus laughed. "All right, all right, you're easily embarrassed by praise, I get it." When Alec poked his head out, Magnus was smiling fondly, and he settled the back of his hand against Alec's cheek. "You should go back to sleep, sweetheart. You've been out for about fifteen hours and you still look tired."

_Nightmares_, Alec wanted to say, but he knew Magnus was already aware. Besides, as terrifying as they were, the dreams seemed a marginally less scary prospect now that he knew Adam had no power over him anymore. "Okay."

"I may not be here when you wake up," Magnus said. "In the morning, I have to go hunt down an ifrit and, ah, _gently_ persuade him to take his business elsewhere."

"It's fine. I'll probably get yelled at by my mom as soon as I get up anyway. I'm really looking forward to it."

Magnus cringed. "Oh, my darling, I do not envy you. Your mother is a frightening woman." He propped himself up slightly and leaned forward, pressed his lips to Alec's forehead. "Good night."

"Night," Alec murmured, eyes fluttering closed. He grabbed Magnus's hand as the warlock began to withdraw it from Alec's cheek, laced their fingers together, held their entwined hands against his chest. Magnus made a faintly pleased sound, threw his other arm over Alec, and the last thing Alec knew was Magnus's steady breath ruffling his hair.

Unfortunately, Alec's predictions about his mother turned out to be spot-on. He woke up just after eight a.m., alone in the narrow bed, and stumbled down to his bedroom for a shower. His left arm ached terribly where it'd been sliced open, but otherwise, he felt better than he had in weeks. It was amazing what an uninterrupted night - and day - of sleep could do. Yawning, he tugged on his sweater and made his way towards the kitchen, but was stopped outside the library by Maryse calling his name.

"Yes?" Alec said, poking his head inside.

"Come in here," Maryse instructed. She was back behind the desk for good - she'd fully recovered from her illness and, though a bit thinner than she had been, looked completely capable of handling the running of the Institute again. "I need to talk to you."

"Um." Alec tried to think of a way to stall. "I was going to have breakfast…."

Maryse sighed. "Get something to eat, then, and come back. This is important."

Right, Alec thought, like he could possibly eat anything with _that_ hanging over his head. He retreated to the kitchen and then helplessly stood in the middle of the room for five minutes, trying to comb his tangled thoughts back into order. He hadn't thought of _any_ way to explain how he'd found Adam yet, and he knew she was going to ask. Fumbling an orange out of the drawer in the fridge, Alec wished it was still his father overseeing everything - all he would have to say was that Adam was in his bedroom and lost his necklace, and he strongly doubted Robert would ask for details. His brain would come up with a scenario he wouldn't _want_ details of. The funny thing, of course, was that he'd be right. Feeling an odd desire to giggle hysterically, Alec held the orange between his hands, let the chill seep into his skin as he returned to the library.

Maryse gestured to the chair in front of the desk. He sat, scraping at the orange peel so he wouldn't have to meet her eyes.

"I spoke with Benjamin yesterday, while you were resting," she began. "He was willing enough to explain his role, such as it was, in Adam's capture. He also informed me that he was the one who concussed you."

For a second, Alec toyed with the idea of relating Adam and Benjamin's conversation to her, but… some part of him felt like that was his business alone. "He was," Alec admitted, "but it wasn't - it was his _fault_, but I'm not holding that against him. He is _really_ screwed up." He threw away the orange peels in the pail next to the desk, and then he didn't have any reason not to look at his mother. She had her hands clasped below her chin and was watching him intently. "I think he had… a personal grudge against Adam, and he pretty much just _snapped_ when I wouldn't let him kill him."

Maryse sighed. "Yes, he said as much. That doesn't change the fact that he could have killed _you_. I doubt the Clave would punish him, but –"

"Mom, just _leave_ _it_," Alec interrupted. "Jace pushed me off the rafters in the training room when we were thirteen. I broke practically every bone in the arm I landed on, just because I'd said something he thought was an insult to his father. He could have killed me too and you didn't punish _him_."

"I should have," she muttered. "But fine – as you didn't suffer any permanent damage, I'll 'leave it'. However, he was also very evasive when I asked how you found Adam. So, Alexander, I put the question to you - how _did_ you find him?"

_Damn it._ Alec stuck a piece of orange in his mouth to give himself a second to think. He _could not_ tell her the truth. He'd wanted to, the other night, but now that desire had vanished and he did not think he could handle her knowing. Maybe someday he'd be able to tell her what Adam had done to him, just not yet. "A couple of years ago," he said, spinning the story in his mind even as he spoke it, "the last time the Ashdowns were here, Adam and I… sort of got into a fight into my room." That was true enough. They _had_ fought, although it had been a very one-sided battle. All he had to do was gloss over what happened afterwards. "I broke his necklace by accident - that dragon one he always wore - and Olivia smacked the pendant under the wardrobe. He forgot about it, I guess, and so did I, and it was only the other night that I remembered it at all. Benjamin helped me move the wardrobe and we used the pendant to track Adam."

He fell silent, and Maryse said nothing. Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Alec occupied himself with fastidiously separating the slices of his orange. Finally, Maryse said, "Lying by omission is still lying."

"I'm not lying."

There was another long pause before Maryse conceded, "I suppose I can believe that explanation," which meant she didn't but was willing to let it go. "But that brings me to my next question." She rapped her knuckles on the desk, Alec looked up, and she said, "What on _Earth _were you thinking? This was not an emergency, you had ample time to wake your father and I. There was absolutely _no_ reason for you and Benjamin to go after Adam on your own. You could've been killed." She frowned at him, the lines around her mouth deepening. "I expected better of you, Alexander."

Those words from her were nothing new. He'd heard them a million times. This, however, was the first time they started something burning in his stomach - sure, she expected better of _him_, but Alec knew for a fact that neither Jace nor Isabelle would be getting the 'I expected better of you' lecture. For some reason, they were usually praised for doing terribly stupid things that turned out well, while he was supposed to stay home and behave himself all the time and _set a good example_. As if his siblings had _ever_ followed his example. "Well," Alec said flatly, "maybe you should lower your expectations."

A slight widening of the eyes was the only reaction that got out of Maryse. He'd not intended it to sound quite so snide, but it was out there, so he leaned back in his seat and bit into another orange slice.

Maryse gave another sigh. "This was much easier when you were twelve years old and deathly afraid of disappointing me."

Alec shrugged. "Sorry," he said, trying not to drip juice on the chair as it ran down his arm. He had other things to be deathly afraid of these days.

"Go and eat that in the kitchen before you make a mess," Maryse said. Understanding he was being dismissed, Alec stood, but before he made it through the doors, she added, "Adam's trial will be four days from now, once his parents can get to Idris."

A slice of orange squished between Alec's fingers as he accidentally squeezed it. "Do I have to be there?"

Maryse looked a bit surprised. "I suppose not," she said. "I'm not _entirely_ certain, but as he's been quite forthcoming about his role in his sister's death, I doubt your testimony will be needed."

"Good," Alec muttered. He was perfectly happy never having to see Adam's face and that sickening smile ever again. He reached for the doorknob, stopped, turned around. "I did hit him, you know."

Maryse blinked. "Excuse me?"

"When they were here, last time, and Diana Ashdown told you Adam said I hit him and you didn't believe it… I did. He called Izzy a slut, and I punched him."

"I see," Maryse said, although she sounded faintly confused, like she wasn't quite sure why he was telling her this now. Honestly, Alec wasn't quite sure either. "Well, if that's all…."

"I'm going, I'm going." Alec twisted the knob and opened the door, then, once again, turned back. "Actually, there's something else I wanted to ask you about…."

Twenty minutes later, Alec stopped outside one of the spare rooms and knocked. "It's open," Benjamin called, so Alec slipped inside and leaned against the wall.

Benjamin was standing next to the bed, staring into the depths of a suitcase that looked like it had never really been unpacked. He picked up a shirt, folded it, and stuck it inside before looking up at Alec. "Oh. Hey."

"Hi," Alec said. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes. I think I've imposed long enough."

"Where are you going after this?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Benjamin sighed and said, "Home, I suppose." He folded another shirt into the suitcase and gave Alec a wry glance. "I was reliably informed that I've been running away from my problems."

Alec smiled faintly. "It's a common affliction." He watched Benjamin close the suitcase, latch it, and gingerly lift it off the bed. "I'm sorry for dislocating your shoulder."

"I'm sorry for trying to break your skull with a pipe," Benjamin replied. "Really, I'm sorry about…." He trailed off and sat down on the mattress, knotting his fingers together. "I suppose you're looking for an explanation."

"No," Alec said. He shut the door and sat in the desk chair, unconsciously mirroring their positions from the day Alec told him about the rape. "I'm _demanding_ an explanation. I think you owe me that much. I haven't told anyone about what you said to Adam in The Holy Cross because, from what I heard, it sounds like you knew a _lot_ more than you let on, and I'm kind of hoping I'm wrong."

Benjamin gave a low _hm._ Alec thought, if there had been any more force behind it, it might've been a laugh. "That depends on how you define 'knew a lot more than I let on'. But you're right, you deserve the truth." He drew in a slow, deep breath. "Everything I told you in the park, everything about me and my father and Etienne… that was all true, I promise. There's more to the story, though.

"After I healed from the battle and got out of the hospital… well, the first thing I did was consider killing myself, I told you about that. I think the only reason I didn't go through with it was because I was so bothered by the thought of the person who murdered him still being out there. I wanted him dead before me. So I started searching for anyone who could recognize the vague description I gave. Nobody seemed to have heard of the guy, and I was even beginning to think my memory was faulty when I finally found a boy who recognized the description. He was pretty vague, but I finally got him to give me a name – Adam Blackthorn.

"I didn't start to think he'd lied to me until Clark Ashdown mentioned that friend of Adam's he'd not actually been living with. Nathanael Clearwater was the boy who'd told me Adam's name. I don't know _why_ he lied, but if I had to guess, I'd say Adam had asked him to give a fake name if anyone came looking. Nathanael eventually told me Adam had gone to Swamp Bottom, probably so I'd quit badgering him and leave him alone."

"What's Swamp Bottom?" Alec interrupted quietly.

"It's a settlement on the far side of Lake Lyn, in the forest. There's a huge swamp there, which I suppose is where the name comes from. Mostly inhabited by Downworlders." Benjamin lifted a finger to his mouth, tugged at the nail with his teeth - a nervous gesture Alec had never seen from him before. It was like that breakdown had started scraping away at the coating of emotionless tranquility to reveal an actual person underneath. "So I packed up and headed down to Swamp Bottom. I thought ahead – the first thing I did when I got there was buy a tracking spell from a warlock. It could be placed on a person and it would burrow beneath their skin. It's painless, he told me, not even noticeable unless you're looking for it. Might also have been illegal, I didn't ask. I figured there was a possibility that Adam would escape from me. And he did – I found him lurking in a dark little bar, tried to confront him… well, it went poorly, obviously. I expect the only reason he didn't kill me was because we were attracting a lot of attention, and if he was trying to sneak around, murdering another Shadowhunter in public would not help him get by unnoticed. But I did manage to get the tracking spell onto him before he fled.

"For… I don't know, maybe a month, I followed Adam while he bounced from town to town, always just ahead of me. He must have realized I had found a way to track him, because suddenly he disappeared from Idris to New York – and then the spell died. I guess it either wasn't designed to last very long, or he discovered it under his skin and cut it out." Benjamin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was stuck for a while after that. I didn't know anyone in New York, I was flat broke, and for all I knew, he'd kept moving.

"And then a couple of weeks ago I expressed some vague desire to go to New York, someone suggested I ask about staying at the Institute, and…" He spread his hands wide. "Here I am."

A few minutes passed in silence before Alec could unstick his dry throat. "This whole time," he said unsteadily, "you knew –"

"I didn't," Benjamin corrected. "I was looking for Adam Blackthorn. I didn't begin to think the person your family was searching for might be my target as well until your father mentioned something about Diana Ashdown having a child named Adam – and even then, it seemed like a coincidence. Adam's a common name, what with that whole Biblical thing. Clark mentioning Nathanael clued me in, but I wasn't _sure_ I was actually looking for Adam Ashdown until…"

"Until I told you," Alec finished. He closed his eyes and pressed his palms against his eyelids. He'd been the one to describe Adam and the scar on his neck to Benjamin, after all. His thoughts wouldn't stack up neatly, so he just asked the next question that came to mind – "Why didn't you _tell_ me any of this?"

Benjamin's shoulders rose and fell. "I wasn't going to tell anyone, to be honest. While you were busy, I used to leave the Institute, but I never knew where to _go_. I had no idea how big this place really was, and again, I wasn't sure Adam was here anymore." He'd bitten his fingernail down until it bled, and now he gave it a distasteful look. "Nobody believed me about Etienne's death," he said softly. "I was so used to working on my own, but suddenly _you _believed me, and I didn't know what to do with that. And then… well, everything happened, and my work was pretty much done for me. You found a way to track Adam and finally I had my chance."

Adam's words from the other day brushed cold, rough fingers over Alec's mind. He licked his lips and said, "Was what Adam said true?"

"Knowing him, probably not," Benjamin muttered.

"He said you'd sent me down into the basement so he could kill me."

Benjamin promptly rolled his eyes, which was somehow very and not at all reassuring at the same time. "And here I thought you were reasonably intelligent. No, of _course_ I didn't. I'm a horrible fighter, okay? My father despairs of me. If you give me a throwing knife, I can take someone down from ten feet away, but I'm screwed if they get much closer. But you… I watched you fight your sister. You're much better at it than I am. I took a guess and assumed he'd be in the basement – only one exit, but it's not hard to take out somebody coming down the stairs, and he wouldn't be seen through the windows. I knew you wouldn't kill him. I needed you to neutralize him so _I_ _could_. Unfortunately, I guessed wrong, and he tried to crack my head open."

_God,_ Alec thought. He felt sick. "So you lied to me _and_ used me," he said faintly. "I thought you were my _friend_."

Benjamin visibly flinched. Alec didn't know if the twist in his stomach was vengeful pleasure or guilt. "If it had been –"

"No," Alec cut him off. "Don't even start with the 'if it had been Magnus' thing. I only let that work on me once. And no matter _what_ happened to him, I wouldn't have done what you did."

"You say that now," Benjamin said, voice toneless. "So did I. It's easy when they're still alive."

That wormed a little further into Alec's heart than he would have liked. Yes, he _wanted_ to say that Magnus's death wouldn't cause him to abandon his principles and manipulate other people until he got the revenge he was relentlessly fixated on, but… would it be different if he couldn't just pick up the phone and hear Magnus's voice on the other end? If Magnus was murdered, and Alec thought he had that chance…. _Dammit_, he thought. "You told me a lot of things I needed to hear," he said. "Every time I talked to you, pretty much. You're good at saying the right thing."

"Um," Benjamin said. The change of topic had clearly thrown him. "Not really, no. Etienne was the empathetic one, I just listened when he talked. So when I talked to you, I tried to figure out what he would say."

"Whatever. The point is – did you mean any of it, or were you just manipulating me?"

Benjamin pursed his lips. Alec had half a thought about trying to count the number of times he'd done that. "I really tried not to like you," Benjamin said. "I couldn't even _look_ at you, at first. But you're not really that much like Etienne, in terms of personality – which is good, if you resembled him any more than you already do, I'd probably go mad. So… I ended up liking you after all. And, forgive me for saying it, but you're a bit of a mess. I wanted to help you." He propped his chin up in his hand and met Alec's eyes. "I meant every word of everything I said, okay?"

There was a tiny part of Alec that wanted to distrust him after everything he'd just revealed, that wanted to refuse every olive branch the other boy offered – but majority ruled, and god help him, he still wanted Benjamin to be his friend. Trying not to think about how pathetic that was, he said, "I wish you'd just told me about this."

"I thought about it," Benjamin admitted. "More than once. But the longer I waited, the harder it got, of course… and I'm not used to really trusting people. The only person who cared about me was Etienne. I'd never had anyone else."

"Actually," Alec said, "I wanted to talk about that. When you wrote to my mom to find out if you could stay here for a while, did you ever ask her why she let you?"

"No. I wondered, at first, but I was mostly just grateful that she was allowing me to stay, so I never asked."

"Well, I did. And she told me kind of an interesting story." Alec rubbed at the scar on the outside of his arm, soothing the sudden, burning pain that popped up every so often. "You said someone suggested you stay here. You meant Marguerite Mayfield, right?"

Benjamin stared at him. "How did you –"

"My mother said that about the same time you wrote to her, so did her sister. I was surprised by that, I didn't even think they _liked_ each other, much less wrote to each other…. Anyway, Marguerite happened to mention this friend of her son Etienne's."

Benjamin had gone very white. Hoping this wasn't going to launch him into another breakdown, Alec said, "And she also said she was worried about him, because they hadn't ever talked about it, but he and Etienne had obviously been _very_ close, and she was afraid of what Etienne's death was doing to him.

"I don't know what she knew, or what she thought she knew." That 'obviously been very close' part was perhaps a bit telling, though. Before they had come home from Alicante, Maryse caught Alec in the kitchen one morning and admitted she wasn't exactly surprised by his coming out. Once or twice, when he was a bit younger, she'd considered the possibility that he might be gay. She knew he was hiding _something_, especially as he got older, and that possibility crossed her mind again here and there, but she'd never been certain. And then that night in the Hall happened, and she realized later she was more shocked by his baffling choice of partner than by Magnus being male. "You say Etienne was the only one who cared about you, but that's clearly not true - Marguerite does too. Maybe you should let her. My mother allowed you here because her sister asked her to. She was afraid of what was happening to you, and she asked my mom, if you wrote to her about staying at the Institute, to take you in for a while."

There was no reply from Benjamin, who was still staring, his lips pressed together. Alec dug into his pocket and produced the letter his mother had given him. "I didn't read it," he said, holding it out, "but she said you could."

Slowly, Benjamin stood. He reached out, took the folded paper from Alec's hand, looked at it, then back to Alec. Alec had a split second of panic when he thought Benjamin might start crying again - but instead, Benjamin just took two steps forward and flung his arms around Alec's neck.

Alec was too startled to react. Aside from Magnus, and Isabelle when she was in a really good mood, people did not hug him very often. By the time he thought he should hug him back, Benjamin had already let go and was twisting the letter in his fingers. "Thank you," he said.

"…you're welcome," Alec replied. "Don't think this means I forgive you yet, though."

"Understood." Benjamin folded the letter into a square and tucked it into his own pocket.

Alec had intended to end the conversation on that note, but his fickle brain seemed to have other plans – all of a sudden, he was opening his mouth and blurting, "You're not going to just go home and kill yourself, are you?"

Benjamin stared at him for a solid twenty seconds. When he finally blinked and looked away, his expression was undecipherable. "…I guess not," he said, so quietly Alec almost didn't hear. "My father would probably explode if I did – shaming the family name and whatnot, as if there's anything left to shame. Since I'm his only surviving son, he expects me to continue his line… I've yet to inform him that I have no intention of reproducing. That ought to be a riot. I expect he'll _spectacularly _disinherit me, I should sell tickets."

That wasn't the concrete _no_ Alec had been hoping for, but it was better than a concrete _yes_. "Are you going now?"

"Yeah. I've got a flight." Benjamin made a face. "Airplanes are absolutely the most horrible things in the world, but I'll make do."

Alec watched, silent, as Benjamin shrugged into his jacket. He would miss the other boy, he thought. He wasn't Jace, but in spite of everything, over the course of about two weeks, he'd become one of the closest friends Alec had. _Not that that's really saying much, considering I have about four friends._ "It's going to be all right, someday," he said abruptly.

Benjamin glanced at him. Then he smiled - not bright, not wide, but he smiled nevertheless. "Yes," he said, "it will."

* * *

Only one more chapter (and the epilogue) left, guys. But, if it helps, twenty-two features the long-overdue conversation between Alec and Magnus that you've all been badgering me about for the last twelve chapters. :b So leave me a review, please, and I'll get that up for you on Monday!


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

Some discussion of rape, but nothing explicit, as usual.

**Notes: **Oh god, this is the last real chapter. All that's left after this is the epilogue (which is probably long enough to be an actual chapter, but I'm just going to call it an epilogue, considering the story actually could end with this chapter. See, there's a method to my madness).

This chapter will please a great deal of you, I suspect. We finally get some talking between our two lovely idiot boys. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

"Let me make sure I've got this straight," Jace said, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Alanna Ashdown was found murdered in a park. Nobody knew who had killed her until Magnus used a spell on her witchlight to see her last memory. _Then _nobody knew where Adam was until Alec _finally_ remembered he had that necklace which could track him. He and that guy I've never heard of go out to a defunct vampire bar, find Adam, and bloodily arrest him." He stopped, looked to Isabelle, who nodded. Then he flung his hands into the air. "Why the _hell_ did no one tell me any of this was going on?!"

"You know, you don't have to say 'finally' like I'd deliberately kept it a secret or something," Alec said, turning the page of his book. "I really didn't remember."

A few hours ago, Jace had returned from his trip upstate with Clary, her mother, and Luke, looking more content than Alec had seen him in a while… and then Isabelle promptly opened her big mouth. Jace was, understandably, less than pleased about the events that had taken place while he was away. He was _also_ less than pleased that no one had bothered to inform him while they were happening. Alec, who had come into the library to read in front of the fire and sort of bask in the knowledge that Adam was in custody and it was _over_, was just downright annoyed that this couldn't have waited until he was gone. Magnus had spent most of yesterday ferreting out the ifrit who'd been smuggling some insanely illegal substances into the city, and he was still tying up a few loose ends with that, so Alec was waiting for him to call before going over. He wanted nothing more than to hide away Magnus's apartment right now. Despite everything, he'd still woken up screaming around four a.m. this morning.

"Look, Jace…." Isabelle, sprawled sideways across an armchair, tilted her head back so that her hair spilled over the side like a dark waterfall. "I guess we all thought instead of calling you, saying 'Adam Ashdown's a psychopath who killed his eleven-year-old sister', and having you come home so you could sit around with the rest of us while we had no idea what to do next, we'd kindly just let you go on having loads of sex with Clary."

"But we _weren't_ having loads of sex."

"_Really?_" Isabelle and Alec said in unison.

Jace rolled his eyes and plopped himself down onto the hearth. "Really. Not that we didn't intend to, mind you - we had plans. We had backup plans. We had backup plans for our backup plans! And every time we got within six inches of one another with impure thoughts percolating in our brains, her mother showed up. I swear, that woman has some kind of radar telling her when someone intends to deflower her innocent little girl. So no, we did not have 'loads of sex', as you so delicately put it. We didn't even have a single load of sex. And I, for one, am displeased - I don't want to live in a world where _Alec_ is more sexually experienced than I am."

Alec glanced at Jace, wondering how in the world he'd gotten dragged into this as Maryse spoke up. "_I_ don't want to live in a world where my children are having this conversation in front of me," she said flatly, shuffling through the papers on the desk. "Out, all of you."

"I didn't even say anything," Alec protested.

"_Out_."

Grumbling under his breath, he got up from his chair and trailed after Isabelle and Jace as they left the library. The moment the door had closed, Isabelle turned to Jace. "So when you say 'experienced'," she mused, "do you mean that like, the number of people you've slept with? Because you definitely win in that category. But if you mean the amount of _stuff_ done, Alec might have you beat… I've always suspected Magnus was a kinky bastard." She looked back at Alec. "Is he?"

Alec weighed his book in his hands and wondered if he'd be able to bludgeon himself to death with it. "How is that _any_ of your business?"

She held her hands up placatingly. "Just curious. I'll take that as a yes. Looks like you're in trouble, Jace."

To Alec's eternal relief, his phone rang right then and there. He snatched it from his pocket, saw **Magnus** on the screen, and beat a hasty retreat. "Are you home yet?"

"What, no 'hello'? No 'how are you today, Magnus'? Are manners dead?" Magnus sighed. "But yes, dear, I am home."

"Good. Jace and Isabelle are trying to discuss my sex life and I want no part of that." Alec had missed Jace terribly, yes, but now that he was back, Alec rather wanted to smack him and tell him to stop leaving his snark all over the Institute. Such was the nature of their relationship. _Can't live with him, can't live without him_ summed it up.

Magnus laughed. "Well, in that case, show up whenever you'd like. I may or may not be in the shower."

Half an hour later, when Alec unlocked the door to Magnus's apartment, he could hear the water running in the bathroom. Since Magnus's showers could take up to and include fifty minutes, Alec suspected he had some free time to kill. He could just jump in with him - Magnus would certainly not mind, and it might drastically improve Alec's mood - but, somehow, the thought made him uncomfortable right now. He went into the kitchen instead and turned on the faucet to fill a glass.

It was incredibly ridiculous of him to suddenly be nervous about getting intimate with his very gentle, very considerate boyfriend who would never do anything Alec didn't want. He'd never had a problem before, even when his nightmares started getting out of hand. The first time they'd had sex had been _mind-blowing_, and Alec had been certain he would never achieve that level of sheer pleasure again, which Magnus had swiftly proved wrong. They maintained a highly functional and fulfilling physical relationship to balance out the wonderfully chaotic maelstrom of their emotional relationship. Alec _loved_ him. He watched the water swirl into the drain and thought, _you told Adam you wouldn't let him take this away from you. If you do - even if he'll never know - then he won._ Alec sucked in a quick breath, leaned his forehead against the cabinet. _It's going to be okay. Magnus would _never_ hurt you. All you have to do is walk in there, and…._

Alec's lungs were burning. Realizing he'd been holding his breath, he exhaled sharply, inhaled again. _Just go in there. Consider this the last step - if you can still sleep with him, after everything that's happened, you'll know for sure that you're fine._

His vision tunneled.

_Oh, you've got to be kidding me,_ he thought indignantly, sliding down to sit on the floor so he wouldn't fall, _no, you are _not_ doing this again -_ But his mind was made up, apparently, and though he continued to mentally berate himself as he set his head on his knees, he had no choice but to wait for the panic attack to run its course.

Gradually, over his own furious self-flagellation and the roar of his pulse in his ears, Alec became aware of other things - a hand cupping the back of his neck, the brush of fur against his arm, a low voice murmuring, "It's all right, just keep breathing, you're all right, it'll be over soon…."

"I know, I know," Alec ground out, digging his fingers into his scalp. No matter how many times he went through this, it was always distressing… and the fact that he was having the world's _angriest_ anxiety attack probably wasn't making it easier on himself. "Shut up, you're not helping."

Magnus obligingly fell silent. After another few tumultuous minutes, during which Alec tried and mostly failed to get his breathing under control, he managed to calm himself and raised his head. Magnus was crouched before him, still damp, clad only in a pair of boxers that were printed with yellow rubber duckies. Deciding it was better not to ask - about the ducks _or_ what had compelled him to actually wear underwear for once - Alec tilted his head back against the cabinet, sighed. He was shaking, and he felt weak and wiped out. "I'm okay now."

"Mm." Magnus removed his hand from Alec's neck. His usually wild hair was soaking wet, dripping into his eyes and down his face and onto his shoulders, and it made him look strangely young and vulnerable. "So I assume that's not the first time that's happened?"

"No," Alec mumbled. "But if it's the _last_, I won't complain." He closed his eyes. "I really just need this to stop."

Magnus's bare feet squeaked against the floor, and then he settled himself next to Alec, linking his right arm through Alec's left. "What happened?"

"I was trying to convince myself to go have sex with you in the shower."

Magnus was silent for a moment. When Alec opened his eyes, the warlock was sporting a vaguely dumbfounded expression that was almost enough to make Alec smile. "Oh," Magnus finally said. "Well. Okay then. While I wouldn't have been averse to such a thing, I wouldn't want you to do anything you're not ready for."

"I don't want to be _not ready_ for it," Alec said bitterly. "By the Angel, Magnus, we've been sleeping together for two months already. Don't -!" He jerked his arm out of Magnus's before those long fingers wrapped around his wrist. "Don't hold my wrist. _He_ did that. He held my wrists and he yanked on my hair." But his reaction was just serving to frustrate him further, and he groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean -"

"Stop," Magnus said, halting Alec's apology in its tracks. "Don't apologize. There's absolutely _nothing_ wrong with being triggered by something that reminds you of a traumatic experience."

Alec shook his head. "I don't want to be _triggered_. I just…." His voice faded out. Magnus's arm snaked around his back. Alec rested his head on Magnus's bare shoulder and whispered, "I need this to be over. Adam's not a threat anymore. I looked at him and told him I wasn't afraid of him and I _meant_ it, but here I am, freaking out over dumb things and having nightmares anyway. I need it to stop."

"I don't think it works that way, love," Magnus said softly, his cheek against Alec's hair. Chairman Meow, who had been lurking around the kitchen in hope of goodies, plunked himself down on Alec's legs and began to wash his paws. "You never gave yourself a chance to process and heal from what he did to you."

"You _still_ don't really know what he did." Alec snagged the end of Chairman Meow's tail when it swept across his thigh, earning a prickly swat on the hand and a disdainful look. "I told Benjamin," he said. "I didn't care what he thought about me, honestly. You, on the other hand…."

Magnus's arm tightened slightly around his shoulders, and he sighed into Alec's hair. "Alec, if you're afraid I'm going to judge you for something you did not consent to and had absolutely no control over, then I am doing this relationship very, very wrong."

"You just judge me for dressing monochromatically," Alec muttered.

"That's right," Magnus agreed cheerfully. "But only because you would look _lovely_ in purple."

Personally, Alec suspected he would look like a dark-haired grape if he wore purple. Keeping that to himself, because he had no need for another treatise on how the color would complement his eyes, he said, "So you keep telling me."

Neither of them said anything else for a while. If the cool air on Magnus's mostly-bare skin bothered him, he didn't make any noise about it, and Alec idly poked at Chairman Meow's paws, attempting to see how much the cat would tolerate before getting up and leaving or simply shredding Alec's fingers. Chairman Meow seemed to have an infinite well of patience - of course, he _did_ live with Magnus. Alec was pretty sure he'd actually drifted into kitty dreamland.

"I was fourteen," he said. Magnus made some sound that could've been either encouragement or horror. "I made him angry. I punched him, and I guess that pissed him off because he thought I was weak. He wanted to make me afraid. And he'd seen the way I looked at Jace, so he figured out the best way to do it." Alec gnawed at his lip, which had been healed the other day along with the rest of him, so it was no longer tender. "He came to my room that night long after everyone else was asleep. He smacked my head into the headboard so I was too disoriented to fight back, put a Quietude rune on me so I couldn't scream, and he raped me."

It was easier to say the words this time, if no less sickening. Magnus's breathing sounded very loud in the otherwise silent kitchen. Alec swallowed and continued, "I was terrified. I kept thinking _I have to stop him, I have to do something_, but nothing worked…." He ran a fingertip over the soft fur behind Chairman Meow's ear. "And then there was nothing I could do. He took what he wanted. I didn't start crying until afterwards, I was too stunned. When he was done, he just… left. He healed me – to get rid of the evidence, I suppose - told me not to tell anyone or he'd go after Izzy next and he just left. That was it. I don't even know how I got up in the morning, but I guess I did. I went to take a shower and saw the bruises he left on me, then spent half the day throwing up and wishing he'd killed me instead." He bit his lip. "Before he managed to pin me, though, I tried to cut his throat with the knife I had under my pillow. I wasn't planning to kill him, but I wouldn't be devastated if I did. My knife broke his necklace - he always wore this leather string with a dragon on it - and the dragon came off and my cat knocked it under the wardrobe. That's how I managed to track him, in the end. I knew about the necklace, I kept dreaming about that part, but I didn't know what happened to it until I used a rune so I could remember more clearly. It'd been there for four years. I guess he had forgotten about it too - without it, I don't know if we would ever have found him."

"So he essentially screwed himself?" Magnus suggested, then immediately blanched. "My god, that was a horrible, insensitive pun. I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"It's all right. I'm kind of used to that sort of thing from you and Jace," Alec said. When Magnus looked at him, he clarified, "Being snarky assholes when you don't know what else to say."

"Ah," Magnus replied. Alec watched for a moment as the warlock mulled over what Alec had just told him and emotions chased each other across his face - the horror, again, nausea, anger, a heartrending misery, and then back to the horror. He'd smoothed them all away, though, by the time he slipped his hand into Alec's. "You're right, though. I really don't know what to say."

Alec shrugged. He felt light. Not empty, but _light_. "You don't have to say anything," he said. He nuzzled Magnus's shoulder, which was warm and speckled with droplets of water from his hair. "You thought I was a virgin when we got together," he murmured.

"I did," Magnus admitted, "but Alec, it didn't matter – I'll swear on anything you'd like that it wasn't a _requirement_. I was pleased because I thought I could make your first time absolutely glorious." His voice dropped a few levels in volume. "And I wish I'd been able to. I'm so sorry that you had to go through all of that, love. But it doesn't change…" He waved a hand. "_This._ Not unless you want it to. I don't think you're broken or damaged because of what he did. You're you. I love you more than anything in the world and nothing is going to change that."

Alec sighed. He turned his face just enough to press his lips to Magnus's shoulder and said, "I love you too."

The quiet which followed that statement was more comfortable than the previous one. Alec, for once not needing something to do with his hands, just watched Chairman Meow's paws twitch as he slept. _I'm tired_, he thought dreamily. Magnus's palm was very warm. Alec didn't want to let go.

He was forced to, however, when Magnus abruptly leapt to his feet. "I forgot, I have something for you!" Magnus announced, ruffling his damp hair, which was squashed into odd angles. "I'll be back in a minute." He glanced down at himself and revised, "Two. I should get dressed."

"There's no need for you to put yourself out," Alec yawned. "I like the ducks."

Magnus cocked an eyebrow. "Do you? I thought… oh, no, I remember, it was _Will_ who didn't like ducks. Wrong gene pool. I will return shortly."

Alec watched him leave, unsubtly admiring the view, then slouched against the cabinets again and closed his eyes. He had no idea who Will was - Magnus mentioned him on occasion and was very cagey regarding the details - but, for once, Alec simply didn't care. Maybe recent events had altered his perspective, or just drastically rearranged his priorities. He'd get on Magnus's back about how little of his past he shared some other time.

He opened his eyes again when something plopped into his lap. First he saw Magnus standing beside him - dressed like he'd thrown darts into his closet and put on whatever he hit, as always - and then looked down to see a rectangular package in his lap. It was wrapped in shiny, multicolored paper emblazoned with the words **¡FELIZ NAVIDAD! **Alec raised an eyebrow.

"Look, it was the only wrapping paper I had, okay?" Magnus said, sitting back down in front of Alec. "I was kind of in a hurry."

"What is it?"

"That, my good sir, is what we in the upper classes call a _present_."

"Yeah, I think my tiny brain could've figured that one out," Alec said dryly. "I suppose I'm wondering why you're giving it to me."

Rolling his eyes, Magnus said, "It's a birthday present."

"My birthday was in September."

"A very late, somewhat poorly-planned birthday present." Alec continued to stare at him and Magnus threw his hands up dramatically. "Just open it!"

Slowly, Alec started to unstick the tape holding one side of the package together. He always felt rather uncomfortable when people - even his parents - gave him presents. If he was feeling psychological, he could speculate that it had something to do with years of deep self-loathing and believing he didn't deserve _anything_, but that seemed unnecessary right now. Once he'd detached every piece of tape as neatly as possible and could no longer drag the moment out, he pulled the paper off.

It was a book. Alec had a devilish split-second urge to ask Magnus what it was and see if he'd actually say "it's a book" or just cry. There were no words on the cover - it was bound in plain, hunter-green fabric with silvery edging, and it was not exceptionally heavy despite its thickness. Curious, Alec opened it to a random page.

"Wait," he said, taking in the familiar brown parchment and white ink and the mindless little doodle of a raven he'd drawn when he'd had nothing better to do one day last week. "This is your book."

"That's where you're wrong," Magnus declared. "This is _your_ book."

Alec blinked, flipped to another page. There was nothing but Magnus's curly handwriting on this one. "Thank you," he said, "but I'm not quite sure what…? I mean, I thought you were just making a weird reference book."

Magnus, thankfully, seemed to understand Alec's confusion. He ran his fingers through his hair, which still looked like a squished hedgehog, and said, "That's what I originally intended, to be quite honest. I was still envisioning it as one when you offered to do the illustrations - by the time I changed my mind and decided I was going to make it for you, you seemed to be enjoying the drawing, so I didn't say anything."

"Then what is it now?"

"Consider it an anthology," Magnus said. "I got very annoyed with trying to explain all the magical uses of the wolfsbane plant, veered off into a personal story that might get me jailed if the Brazilian authorities ever read it, and it all went downhill from there. I have a lot of personal stories, as it turns out. It may actually be the most self-indulgent birthday present I've ever given… but you always have questions, and I find I'm better at writing than talking, sometimes." He shrugged. "Some of the stories are a bit depressing. Most of them involve people you've never heard of, and you're welcome to ask about them, but I can't guarantee you'll like the answers."

"So…" Alec began, starting to smile, "instead of just talking about these things like normal people, you actually created a book to hold them?"

"That's basically the gist of it, yes. Although, you helped. Try not to be surprised when there's suddenly a picture of a Raum demon in the middle of the narrative."

Alec laughed. He lurched forward, threw his arms around Magnus's neck, and kissed him with a wild, fierce abandon that didn't even come close to the joy bubbling up in his heart. "_Thank_ you."

"Oh, don't thank me yet," Magnus breathed, sliding his hands over Alec's hips. "If you still want to after you've found out what happened in São Paulo, _then_ thank me." Brazil, Peru… Alec was starting to think Magnus really needed to stay away from South America. "If you _don't_ want to, I won't be up-"

"Why is your mouth still forming words," Alec asked, drawing back, "when there are much better things it could be doing?"

"Point taken," Magnus said. He pulled Alec in again. Chairman Meow snuffled at the book, rubbed his face against it, and then sprawled across the cover like it was his new bed, and neither of them noticed a thing.

* * *

Epilogue Wednesday, probably. I _might_ be generous and post it tomorrow if you leave me a review... :D


	24. Epilogue

**Running With My Roots Pulled Up  
**

**Disclaimer: **_The Mortal Instruments _belongs to Cassie Clare. I'm really just ruining her characters' lives for my own twisted amusement.

**Warnings (_PLEASE_ READ): **As a blanket warning for the whole fic, it contains non-graphic references to a past rape.

No special warnings for this chapter.

**Notes: **Here you are, my dears - the epilogue. Hopefully it serves as a good ending to the fic - if not, you can just pretend it ended with chapter twenty-two. :b

Enjoy!

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**Epilogue**

* * *

Alec was on his way to Magnus's place the next morning when he rounded the corner by the library and almost tripped over Lily Ashdown.

In his defense, she was difficult to see - she'd been sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out, tangling a piece of string between her fingers with quick, practiced motions, and Alec barely managed to relocate his foot mid-step so he didn't bring his weight down on her ankle. Lily scrambled to her feet and backed against the wall. "Sorry!" she squeaked.

"It's okay," Alec said. He glanced from her to the closed library doors, though which he could just make out the murmur of several different voices. "Are your parents here?"

Lily nodded. "Uh-huh. We're going to Idris to see Adam." Her lips curved into a frown, and for one heart-stopping moment he was terrified she was about to start crying. "Mommy said we're not going to see him again after that, because of what he did to Alanna."

Alec suppressed a wince. "Yeah," he said awkwardly. He doubted Diana and Clark had told their daughter what Adam's fate would be. She was too young to know the sentence usually laid upon Shadowhunters who killed other Shadowhunters, and too young to watch the trial, as the Clave rarely allowed children who'd not yet been Marked into murder trials unless their presence was necessary. Alec, to his endless relief, would not be required to attend. Robert was going, since he'd been the person in charge of the Institute when the whole debacle had occurred, but Maryse had told Alec last night that the Clave determined he was not needed.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something to say to this little girl - he didn't understand small children, they were strange creatures - and then something occurred to him. "Hold on a second," he said, and went back the way he came.

Lily hadn't moved when Alec returned. "Here," he said, holding out the dark little bag the Silent Brothers had placed Alanna's witchlight in. Also inside was her bracelet, which Alec had consistently forgotten to give to her parents long after it was useful. Lily took the bag and opened it, spilling its contents into her hand. "They were Alanna's."

For a long moment, Lily just stared at what he'd given her. Then she looked back up and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Alec stuck his hands into his pockets and continued on down the hall, leaving Lily to inspect the tiny charms on her sister's bracelet.

It was so cold outside that his breath condensed into a white fog the moment he stepped through the Institute doors. He turned his collar up and hunched in on himself, scurrying towards the subway along with dozens of other New Yorkers who didn't want to be caught in the approaching sleet. He could've stayed at Magnus's overnight, and he'd considered it, but home seemed a better option for two reasons - one, he was still having awful nightmares, and his shouting usually didn't wake anyone up in the vast cathedral. Magnus had insisted he didn't _mind_, but Alec felt guilty interrupting his sleep. And, two, he was slightly afraid he might accidentally hurt his boyfriend if he came awake in a panic again, even though he'd stopped keeping a knife beneath his pillow.

Not five minutes after he took a seat, the one next to him was occupied by a familiar face - the selkie he'd met on the train what felt like forever ago. It had only been a few weeks, but Alec thought a long time might pass before he stopped dividing his life into 'before I remembered the rape' and 'after I remembered the rape'. She looked exactly the same as before, aside from the ice crystals scattered through her hair like diamonds.

"We meet again, Shadowhunter," she said, giving him a sultry come-hither look that probably sent most men to their knees.

"Yeah. Hi." He studied the advertisement for Snickers bars above the opposite row of seats so he wouldn't have to look at her - he didn't want to encourage her, and since he was hopelessly inept at getting _Magnus_ to stop flirting with him, he doubted he'd be any better at it with a stranger. Still, he could see her out of the corner of his eye. Despite being made of sealskin, her clothes were very skimpy, and her skin was shiny and wet, and he couldn't stop himself from blurting, "Aren't you cold?"

Her lips pulled into a smile, revealing slips of white teeth. "Not particularly, but if you're that concerned, you can shift over and warm me up…."

_Oh, screw it._ "I don't think my boyfriend would be too happy if I did that."

The selkie's smile faded. She sighed, slouched back into her seat, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Not going to happen, huh?"

"No. Sorry."

"Oh well." She tucked a lock of damp hair behind her ear. "It was worth a try. If you're ever up for a threesome, I live in Sea Gate." As the train slowed, she stood and threw him a wicked grin before gliding out of the car.

Alec blinked. Several times.

"_Dude_," said the guy in the Columbia University sweatshirt who'd been sitting on her other side. "If _you're_ not going to hit that…." He leapt to his feet and raced after her.

Shaking his head, Alec said, "Okay," to no one in particular. _My life is weird._

It was just starting to drizzle when he climbed the stairs up to the street, and by the time he reached Magnus's apartment, the rain was icy where it slipped between his collar and his neck. He shivered and took the steps quickly, digging his key from his pocket as he did so, and unlocked the door. "Magnus?" he called, toeing off his boots.

"In the kitchen," Magnus called. "Come here for a minute."

Alec left his jacket spread out over the couch to dry and padded down the hall. Magnus was standing by the table, which was cluttered with papers of all sizes, shapes, and colors. As he watched, the warlock picked one up, scrutinized it, and set it on a chair. The next paper went into the trash. "What are you doing?" Alec asked.

"Going through some old stuff," Magnus said. "Here, I thought I'd ask if you wanted this." He held out a square of paper.

Alec took it and turned it over. It was the advertisement for The Holy Cross, dated February 1979, featuring a picture of what appeared to be the Virgin Mary with fangs. They sold half-price drinks on Sundays from midnight to four a.m., then again from nine p.m. to midnight. "No thanks," he said, handing it back.

Magnus tossed it into the garbage. "Just figured I'd check."

He went through a few more old papers while Alec filled the kettle, set it on the stove to heat up, and went looking for tea. "I saw Lily Ashdown this morning," Alec said, looking at a bright green box covered in Chinese characters and trying to decide if he was willing to drink something he couldn't identify. "She's going to Idris with her parents and my father. Adam's trial is tomorrow."

"That poor girl," Magnus sighed. "Imagine having your sister disappear, then turn up dead, murdered by your brother…."

"She's probably better off without _him_, honestly." Adam was Alanna and Lily's older brother. He was _supposed_ to protect them with his life - instead, he'd gone to the opposite extreme. Alec shivered and took down the box of Earl Grey, picked at the sealed flap, and, out of nowhere, blurted, "It's my fault."

"Sorry, what's your fault?"

"That her sister is dead," Alec said. He gnawed at his lip, shoving a finger beneath the flap, and cursed when the cardboard's edge tore into his skin. "If I'd told someone – maybe he wouldn't have gotten the chance to kill anybody if I'd told someone he raped me."

Almost imperceptibly, Magnus flinched. _Note to self,_ Alec thought, _Magnus has a problem with the word 'rape'._ But then, so had he, until he'd put himself through intense exposure therapy and could apply the term without vomiting. "I was afraid to," he continued quietly, holding his bleeding finger beneath the faucet. "He swore he'd hurt Isabelle if I did, so I kept my mouth shut. And… I don't know for sure, but when he killed Etienne on Brocelind Plain… I think he might've mistaken him for me. It's my –"

"I'm going to stop you there," Magnus said, dropping a few bits of paper and coming to Alec's side. "You can't deal in 'what ifs', Alec. Yes, _maybe_ he would have been locked up if you'd told someone. But maybe the Clave wouldn't have wanted to properly deal with a sexual assault case between two boys and just given him a slap on the wrist. Maybe he would've convinced enough people that it was consensual. And maybe he would have done exactly as he said and attacked Isabelle. You have no way of knowing what _could_ have happened." He touched his fingertips to Alec's cheek, turning his face so their eyes met. "You were trying to protect your sister, and you were afraid. I don't think anyone would blame you for wanting to forget what he did to you. But you put him away. It's over. He can't hurt anyone else now." Magnus smiled and ran his thumb over Alec's cheekbone. "Feel any better, or should I go on?"

Though he didn't feel entirely absolved of blame, Alec _did_ feel a bit better. Magnus was good at that sort of thing.

Once the water boiled and Alec had made his tea, he sat at the table and cleaned three square inches to place his mug down. Magnus accumulated a lot of junk, he thought, peering at a party invitation from 1986. It ended up in the trash, along with quite a few other things, and Alec was coming dangerously close to dozing before Magnus had even cleared half the table. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Magnus asked, brushing Alec's hair off his face.

"Some," Alec murmured. "I woke up around two, but I actually managed to fall back asleep."

"Well, that's a start." Magnus tossed something into the 'keep' pile.

The usual nightmare wasn't the only thing Alec had dreamt, for once - perhaps that was why his gaze was drawn to the curve of Magnus's spine, to the faint smile that flitted across his mouth occasionally, to the strip of skin showing whenever he leaned to reach something on the other side of the table and his shirt rode up. Chairman Meow chased a crumpled ball of paper that missed the garbage can, and Alec followed Magnus with his eyes as the warlock went to grab it before it disappeared into the hall.

When Magnus turned around, Alec was invading his personal space. "Hello," Magnus said, an eyebrow sweeping upwards as he threw the ball into the pail. "What can I do for you?"

Alec shrugged. Last night, while he'd tried to settle his frazzled nerves so he could go back to sleep, he had started thinking - and, as strange as it seemed, he was _almost_ glad he had repressed the memory of Adam raping him all those years ago. If he hadn't, he suspected he would've just permanently checked out of life. Now, though… he had Magnus, who was perfectly willing to support Alec through the issues his recollection of the incident had brought up. He had better, more comfortable relationships with his parents, and even if they didn't know yet, he thought he might be able to tell them someday. He had Jace and Isabelle, too. And if all else failed, he could write whiny letters to Benjamin, who would kick some perspective back into him because that seemed to be what their friendship was all about. He wasn't alone. He would survive this. He didn't have to run away anymore.

"Alec," Magnus began - but whatever he'd been about to say was swallowed by Alec's lips on his own.

He recovered admirably quickly, hooking his thumbs into the back pockets of Alec's jeans. Taking a fistful of Magnus's expensive-feeling shirt in his hand, Alec backed him up against the fridge, scattering a few Scrabble tile magnets. "If your reorganizing isn't really important right now, I have an idea," he said quietly, watching Magnus's slit pupils dilate.

"Oh?" Magnus breathed, running a hand up beneath Alec's sweater and brushing his cool fingertips over his stomach. Alec shivered. "What's that?"

"It'll hopefully end with nobody involved remembering their own name."

"I see." As Alec's other hand wandered up Magnus's chest to the buttons at his throat, Magnus caught it in his own. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he said quietly.

Alec bit his lip, shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I know I _want_ it. You'll stop if I need you to." It wasn't a question. He knew, without even the slightest doubt, that Magnus would not _ever_ hurt him. There was that pinprick of apprehension at the base of his skull – the one that remembered hands locking around his wrists and tearing at his jeans – and he had no idea when or if it would ever go away, but he wasn't going to let it rule him. One step at a time. Even if they didn't make it any further than flopping around on the bed, fully clothed, like a pair of inexperienced teenagers, he'd be happy. "Touch my wrists or my hair and all bets are off. But the only thing I need you to do right now is blow my mind," he added, popping the top button on Magnus's shirt.

That sunlight-smile stole across Magnus's face. He slid his hands into his boyfriend's jeans, fit his thumbs into the hollows of Alec's hips, and purred, "Challenge accepted."

* * *

...well, my friends, it's over. If you've made it this far, thank you - _double_ thank you to everyone who reviewed, but even those of you who just hung on for dear life and couldn't think of anything to say, thank you for reading. This is my biggest project so far (it was only supposed to be around 35k, but you can see how well that worked out) and while I'd like to say I couldn't have done it without your support, honestly, I wrote almost the entire fic in two weeks before I started posting it. xD But I did write it all for you! If I'd thought I wouldn't have any readers, I would've just kept this in my head. So again, thank you. I _really_ hoped you enjoyed reading this, because I certainly enjoyed writing it! And I would really love it if you left me one last review just to let me know how you felt about the fic.

Oh, and since I know I'll get this question - at the moment, I have no plans for a sequel. I can't say there _won't_ be one, but I can't say there will be, either.

Thank you all! *hugs*


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